Uncontrolled Exposure
by Chaosia Guadimus
Summary: Wesker is conned into tagging along on a small camping expedition with a few members of S.T.A.R.s and their families.Over the trip & beyond he begins to see-for the first time in his time with Umbrella- that his solitude might not be such an asset.
1. Chapter 1

_Okay so this is my first time within the Resident Evil playground . . . so no one try to kill me for any mistake I might make. To let everyone know it will be WeskerxOC . . . eventually. I'm pretty much writing this to clear my head for my other story lines (and because this idea won't leave me the fuck alone) so any flames or ranting will probably just be ignored. Oh, Resident Neptune has a story that is sort of similar in the basis and its absolutely amazing. A great laugh if you're interested. Now on to my insanity so I can freaking get on with the other three stories that I'm supposed to be working on . . . By the way, Bastian, Mikhail and Chaosia are all mine. But I do loan them out from time to time so if you're interested in borrowing them just let me know. As for the rest, I own nothing._

* * *

**Down in the Backwoods**

Wesker groaned as Chris and Claire Redfield's jeep swerved off the narrow dirt road for the seventh time in the last ten minutes. He could clearly see Jill Valentine's head bobbing through the back glass as she yelled at the siblings. Forest was hanging out of the back passenger window, screaming back at Bastian's Land Rover and waving his arms as a signal for needing a rescue. Wesker cut his eyes to Bastian, brow raised behind the sunglasses he always wore. Said S.T.A.R.s officer was trying very hard not to laugh at the sight before them while he slowed to avoid another collision.

It would only be the third one of the day . . . which had made the normally three hour drive stretch into almost five . . . and they still weren't at Bastian's sister's cottage on Alkali Lake. Actually, from what he could glean from the GPS, they were still at least forty-five minutes away. Bastian owed him for this . . .

Wesker rolled his eyes as Bastian's phone blared to life, Jill's number blinking across the faceplate. Bastian sighed, reaching down and answering as he shook his chin length black hair out of his light blue eyes, shifting in his seat. He'd shed his faded black leather motor jacket at their last pit stop, leaving him in just the skintight white T-Shirt and worn bootlegged jeans . . . which-coupled with his own unusually casual dark jeans and fitted heather gray thermal shirt- had drawn far more female attention than either Shaw or Wesker had actually wanted. Forest, on the other hand had loved it.

Bastian Shaw was proving not to be the typical police officer, with his almost model worthy good looks, varied interests and classical education. But Wesker had known that when he'd started looking. Actually, it was part of what led Wesker to recruiting the man despite his issues within the Rangers during the first few months of his operation within the Raccoon PD. Bastian was close to his age and came from a very wealthy and influential family . . . or would have if his father weren't the world's largest jackass.

Over the past few months, Wesker had learned the man's father had apparently decided, after he'd already had Bastian and Mikhail with his first (deceased) wife that his second, Millennia Guadimus wasn't what he wanted in life. Which would've been fine if she hadn't legally adopted both of the brothers and wasn't pregnant with Bastian's half sister at the time. When he left, he didn't take either of his sons with him and-as far as Wesker knew- had never laid eyes on his daughter. His stepmother had raised them and worked herself literally to death to take care of them until she passed away when he was seventeen. Which left Bastian with an fourteen year old brother and an eleven year old sister to practically raise. He'd kept them out of Child Services . . . and put himself and his siblings through school even with joining the Rangers. Wesker himself could relate to being passed around and looked over . . . which is probably part of the reason why he hadn't fought Bastian's attempts to be friendly-despite the fact that Birkin had taken it badly that he was going to have more than one friend.

The phone being passed in his face brought him from his thoughts and back to the matter at hand. Which seemed to be keeping peace in a vehicle that he wasn't even bodily in. He sighed, taking the phone and cursed himself for the millionth time. Why had he allowed Bastian to goad him into this woodsy excursion with the others from Alpha and Redfield's sister?

Because he's bringing you to meet his sister and to force you to relax. And you're curious as to what normal people actually do on camping and caving trips . . .

"Yes, Valentine?"

"Please tell Chris to quit messing with Claire over this boy she's been seeing at school. I can't handle anymore whiplash and I'm sure Bastian doesn't want to have his car repaired anymore than he already does . . ."

Wesker sighed deeply before removing his sunglasses to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. Only Redfield could cause problems in such a remote setting with hardly anyone else around. It was like that man was genetically designed to destroy his plans or something. As he heard the phone get passed to Redfield he could also hear Claire's indignant grumbling and Forest's jibes about Chris lightening up some. Normally he wouldn't care either way but they had laid this on him so they would deal with his forced sentiments about the situation.

"Redfield, leave the damn girl alone until we reach our destination. After that you can go out into the woods and dish it out properly for all I care. Just do not cause another wreck or anymore delays. I would like to get there before the end of our holiday if you don't mind."

Redfield agreed sheepishly, tossing the phone back to Valentine.

"Valentine, do please try and keep the peace. By whatever means necessary."

She thanked him before hanging up abruptly. Leaving him and Bastian to barely manage avoiding the Jeep's sudden stop. Chris was practically pushed from the driver's seat and out onto the unpaved road, landing on his ass- as they watched Jill scale the seats and take his place. Forest opened the back door, pulling him in before the Jeep shot forward. Leaving a cloud of dust and dirt in its wake as Jill tore through the snaky back roads.

Bastian blinked before erupting into guffaws of laughter, Wesker himself finding it hard not to chuckle at what had just happened. Apparently all Jill had needed to take matter into her own capable and deadly hands was permission. As they followed quickly, Wesker noted that they would probably make it to the cottage within thirty minutes now . . . maybe less if Jill kept accelerating. And for once, it didn't bother him that he and Bastian were still laughing over the mutiny against his star sniper. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing for him to have actually come along . . . besides, he could always sneak away and check to make sure no other test subjects were out if he needed to escape the others . . .


	2. Chapter 2

_Wow i haven't messed with this in a while. I own nothing but Chaos, Bastian and Mikhail. Also just to throw this out I don't dislike Claire, Jill or anyone else. This is just the way some of this turned out . . . and I swear I'm not bashing. on with the show._

* * *

**Introductions**

Jill Valentine was not a judgmental person by any stretch of the imagination. She herself had come from less-than-perfect circumstances and managed to overcome them. Which-in all honesty- is part of the reason why she, Chris and Bastian all got along so well. They'd all been in the same quintessential boat at one point or another. . . though honestly Bastian and Chris had more in common with the whole raising a sibling deal. But as she watched what she could only guess was Bastian's brother cross the huge porch quickly to sweep Claire off her feet and into an almost bone crushing hug, she could admit she wondered-however briefly- if the boy was as great as she'd been leading them to believe he was.

Mikhail stood about two inches shorter than Bastian and his dark hair was cut almost haphazardly, falling oddly around his face and neck. He was just as toned as his brother-a point emphasized by his jeans and the dark gray T Shirt- and had a slightly darker complexion and the same light blue eyes; factors that on most people but the Shaw family would make total assholes. But amazingly Mikhail seemed just as mellow as Bastian. The way he spun Claire had Chris already glaring and Bastian groaning but Mikhail's smile immediately set Jill at ease with everything that could ever possibly happen between the two of them. He smiled so warmly to Claire that it was impossible for him to do anything but adore her.

_Which was not going to go over well with Chris at all. _

The clearing of a throat brought all their attention-even Claire and Mikhail who were talking excitedly as though no one else were present- to the girl leaning against the ivy and lavender covered porch banister. Jill raised a brow.

_This was Bastian's baby sister?_

The way he spoke of her always put Jill in the mind set of an almost overly innocent girl in her late teens like Claire . . . but she was wrong. Her hair was a light blonde, almost white with slightly darker streaks intermingled and pulled into a loose knot at the base of her skull, allowing most of her slender neck to be seen. And by the way she was looking at her brother -with one of her blonde brows raised as she took in Claire skeptically- Jill could easily recognize the brutal intelligence shining there in her light blue-green eyes. She pushed off from the railing and descended the steps quickly but quietly.

Jill shook her head, looking at the sheer difference in the girl and the rest of her family. She was petite- barely coming to her brothers' chins- with a curving soft figure and long legs while her heart-shaped face sported full, pouty lips, large expressive eyes framed by thick sooty lashes that brushed her high cheekbones. Jill turned, glancing at the others. Claire had stilled and was a step further away from Mikhail than she had been while Chris and Forest were eying the newcomer with unveiled interest. But Wesker is the one that surprised her. Her Captain hadn't turned his sun glassed gaze from her since she'd stepped closer.

Bastian stepped forward, grabbing Mikhail by the back of his shirt and dragging him over to their sibling, throwing his arm over her shoulders and dipping to kiss her cheek. She hugged him back, her eyes lighting up as she smiled brightly before reaching out and cuffing Mikhail in the back of the head. _**Hard.**_

Claire and Chris both flinched at the sound of impact while Forest stood staring at them slack jawed. Bastian however stepped between them and, moving quickly, blocked the next knock to his brother's skull while maneuvering his sister out of the reach of said brother's sloppy and wild retaliating swing. Which left both of them undefended and unprepared for her counter measure. Grabbing each by an ear, she pulled them to her level. Forcing them to bend at the waist so she could speak to them without looking up.

She spoke so softly that Jill doubted anyone but herself and Wesker -who was somehow suddenly closest to the trio- could hear her soft lilting voice as she reprimanded them.

"Bastian, I am working on a Doctoral Thesis, not running a social event. You and Mikhail were supposed to be the only two here . . . with the addition of your friend. So would you like to explain why there are four extra people and four more distractions? And speaking of **_distractions,_** Mikhail are you out of your damned mind? What would possess you to practically _**maul**_ that poor girl without even introducing her to us?"

Both boys winced, Bastian speaking first as Jill tried to fight the laughter bubbling in her throat at the subdued expression on his face. He didn't even look that disheartened when Wesker had assigned the whole team an extra seven hours of clean-up duty after Brad and Forest's pipe bomb demonstration caused half of the office to burn. Wesker was smirking beside her, something that she knew he wasn't probably aware he was doing. And something that showed just how relaxed he'd gotten now that they were out of the city limits.

_Apparently the man riding up with Bastian hadn't been a bad thing after all . . ._

"Sorry Chaos . . . but they're actually just going up further into the mountains tomorrow so it _**will**_ just be the four of us. "

She nodded, releasing him as she jerked Mikhail's ear harder. Claire's gasp caused her to look up and cock a brow at the worried expression on the younger girl's face before rolling her eyes and turning back to her brother.

"_**Well?**_ What about _**you?**_"

He blushed, still wincing.

"I met Claire at school a few months ago. She needed some work done on her bike and Steve told her to bring it to me . . . I did the work and she's just kind of been with us ever since. We're _**friends-**_"

Jill watched as the girl's look darkened before she shook her head and jerked on his ear again, causing him to squawk and Bastian to wince as he stepped back and to Wesker. Shaking his head as he rubbed his sore and red ear as their sister tore into her brother.

"_**Friends**_? After that little spectacle brother I am so not falling for the whole _**'****friends'**_ line of bullshit. Now either tell me the truth or sleep outside in a tent. I'm blonde not stupid."

The boy blushed even darker, muttering to his sister as she released him and shook her head; crossing her arms as Claire moved closer to them. Jill watched the way she eyed Claire, obviously weighing whether or not she was worthy of whatever role she'd started occupying in Mikhail's life.

"She's well, kind of my girlfriend, all right? I had no clue she was coming up here until a few minutes ago. I came up here to tell you and Bastian that we were talking. And to meet her brother on our way back to school."

Chris growled, turning to Claire as Bastian groaned and slapped Khail on the back of the head hard. Both however said the same to both of their siblings.

"You are so fucking dead when we get home."

And Jill couldn't do anything but laugh. This was definitely going to be an odd outing.

_She just hoped they could survive it . . ._


	3. Chapter 3

**Settling In?**

Bastian moved, dropping his bags onto the bed of his room with a sigh. God he couldn't believe this. For all of the people for Mikhail to try and date he had to pick Chris's little sister. A girl who had-on her last trip home just a few months before-been head over heels in love with their mutual friend Steve. And now he had to watch the two of them together while Jill and Forest tried to keep Chris in check . . . and Khail kept apologizing to Chaos for making such a damned mess.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he moved to unpack. This was a nightmare just waiting to happen. All it was going to take was one wrong word or move and he knew his sister's already thinning patience was going to snap. And the others were going to get to see the combination of his stepmother and father's tempers flare to life right before she pummeled their brother to death.

He pulled his clothes out of his suitcase, dropping them into one of the empty drawers in the dark wood dresser with a long suffering sigh. This was not what he'd planned on when he'd invited Wesker and the others to come up here. But at least the rest would be gone tomorrow afternoon . . . and then he could focus on getting Wesker to lighten up.

Who knows, maybe a few hours watching Chaos and Khail duke it out and argue could make the man actually act human for longer than two seconds. Probably not but hey he could hope right?

A knock on the door made him look up.

"Come in."

The door opened and Chris pushed through, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him. And as soon as Bastian saw the look on his face he knew he was going to have to bite his tongue. God when all of this was over he was going to kill Khail. Slowly and painfully.

"Man, we gotta talk. And I swear I'm not trying to overreact here . . . but can you please ask your brother to not throw my sister around like a ragdoll? I don't care if she's laughing or not; she's my baby sister."

Bastian groaned, flopping back onto the bed and covering his face with his hands. He let out an aggravated growl before he hollered.

"Mikhail Alexander Shaw! Get your ass in here_**. NOW!**_"

* * *

Claire glanced over the coffee table in the living room of the cottage, trying to make heads or tails of the gibberish scribbled over all of the papers and written in the books. But it was all a swirling jumbled of letters and numbers to her, nothing coming together to make a single distinguishable thing. She shook her head, turning away as Mikhail and Bastian's sister came back into the room; Jill following closely behind her with two glasses of what looked like white wine in hand.

Jill moved, setting one down in front of her with a wink before she sank into the couch. Jill shifted, settling into the plush dark leather before she turned to the other girl with a friendly smile. But the girl just sank into the massive chair at the opposite side of the table, picking up the thickest book and a highlighter. Jill however wasn't going to be deterred. She cleared her throat, still smiling when the girl looked back up.

And Claire suddenly hoped that she would be able to be as kind as Jill when she was faced with a situation like this. Because this girl was _**not**_ the sweet and kind person Khail had made her out to be. Not by a longshot.

"I didn't get the chance to introduce myself before. I'm Jill, Jill Valentine. I work with Bastian."

The girl raised a brow before nodding once, her eyes dipping back to the book in her lap. But Jill seemed determined to start a conversation with the girl.

"You have a lovely home . . . Chaos, right?"

The girl sighed, nodding again as she tossed the book back onto the table before leveling a pointed look on both of them. And Claire wasn't above admitting that she was a bit unnerved by her light blue green eyes. Especially when they were narrowed and hard like chips of aqua ice.

"Chaosia. And I know who you are, Ms. Valentine. My brother speaks of you often. And while I'm thrilled to make your acquaintance I'm only going to say this once. I have a very large, very in depth thesis to complete before the end of my holiday. I don't intend to be rude but I have to work on it."

Claire blinked, watching Jill's smile falter at the edges. But Chaosia's next words threw her for a loop.

"Besides, I'm not very good conversation right now anyway. Bastian should be settled soon and then he can show you the rest of the property."

Jill nodded, turning to Claire with a raised brow. But they both watched the girl pick the massive book back up, running her highlighter over entire paragraphs as she returned to her work. God who was that damned dedicated at school?

* * *

Hours later, after all of her _guests_ were settled and asleep, Chaosia was finally able to hide on the back porch and look over the pond behind the cottage. And drink her damn glass of scotch and unwind. God her brothers had fucked her over royally this time . . . the idiots. Of all of the people for Bastian to bring he had to bring Mikhail's latest piece of ass. She sighed, taking a hard slug from the drink. This was going to be a nightmare . . . but at least the other four were leaving sometime after lunch tomorrow so it wasn't going to be too bad.

_Hell, if Khail caused too much trouble before then she could always ship him off with them . . ._

She grinned, taking a smaller sip as she watched the fireflies dance over the misty water. Now that idea had merit . . . A sound made her turn and she was surprised to see Bastian's commanding officer standing just to the side. He was glancing out at the lake but as he turned he seemed just as shocked as she had been. She nodded to him, raising her glass ever-so-slightly before turning back to looking at the lake. And she honestly thought he would leave her in peace . . . especially with the chilly reception she'd given chatty Kathy and her sidekick. But he surprised her even further by moving closer.

She watched him motion to the chair beside her and she shrugged, waving him to it before taking another drink of her scotch. She sighed, watching the bugs before his voice broke her out of her daze . . . . And she had to wonder where he was from originally that had given him the slight lilt to his voice. It wasn't much, just enough to barely be noticed. But it practically screamed breeding.

Which made her wonder for the millionth time why in the world Bastian seemed so damned keen on trying to befriend him. He'd called her more often that she liked to admit, asking about different things she'd done to get people to open up . . . and so far very few of them had worked on the stoic man beside her.

"I believe I owe your brother an apology. With the exception of trying to get here-and the introductions- this is rather peaceful . . ."

She nodded before shrugging and turning back to the lake as she spoke. And she felt his eyes on her even behind the sun glasses. Seriously? Sunglasses at night?

"It usually is . . . I bought this cottage for that reason. Plus it isn't too far away from dumb and dumber if either of them needs me . . . Well, from Bastian anyway."

He chuckled and she decided that she liked the sound of it. Even if it did remind her of what a spider probably sounded like when it was courting a fly.

"That is a most apt description from what I saw earlier. And I have to remember to use the ear method the next time Redfield and Forest go to get out of line . . . It seemed most effective."

She grinned at him before nodding to the decanter set on the table. To which he raised a brow.

"If you'd like a drink feel free. I have a feeling that you have earned it. I saw Bastian's car earlier . . . how many times did they wreck?"

He reached out, uncorking the crystal bottle and pouring himself a hefty glass before bringing it to his nose. He took a small sip before swirling the dark rosewood colored liquid. And she knew that he would probably enjoy it. The Macallan smelled spicy, with hints of raisins and orange zest. He nodded to her and she smirked back, taking another sip of her own. While the drink itself was wonderfully soft, smooth and spicy, with lingering touches of citrus and peat-smoke she loved the way it burned as it made its way down. And so did he-apparently- as he took a long drink and sighed, letting his head lull back against the plush patio chair.

A few moments later she heard his voice again.

"Only three. That . . . is actually quite exquisite . . . what brand and vintage is it?"

She grinned, watching two fireflies twirl together over the dark glistening water only semi-visible because of the mist before turning to him. And she was glad that he didn't seem to mind her not chattering away like the other two women had. Actually Claire had all but hidden behind her brother and Officer Valentine-who insisted on being called Jill- after she hadn't just instantly fallen in love with her. She snorted, rolling her eyes. Her brother was fucking her . . . not her. Besides, she wasn't even close to her type.

"Fifty-five year old Macallan."

He nodded, looking back out at the lake before he reached up and removed his glasses. And she was surprised to see his eyes. They were light blue with what looked like tiny flecks of darker blue and almost silvery gray bursting out from his pupils. And they set well against his slightly pale skin and hay blonde hair . . . His voice brought her out of her perusal of his features and she almost blushed.

_She hadn't meant to stare . . ._

"I must admit that I find myself at a loss. You barely speak but you stare . . . Is my company so unenjoyable?"

She shrugged, turning back to the lake as she settled deeper into her own seat.

"Not at all. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but you have striking eyes. And I don't really talk much with people I don't know. Actually I rarely get to talk at all . . . A habit from school and work I'm afraid."

* * *

Wesker nodded, glancing at her before he stretched out and took another drink of his scotch. It was actually very good . . . and the woman beside him obviously had better tastes than any of the others. They had all gotten drunk on the beer and liquor they'd brought-even Bastian who lost more than a few points for it- before passing out in random stages of idiocy. Leaving him alone and awake while the rest snored. Or so he'd thought until he'd come outside and found Chaosia.

Shaw owed him an explanation. Because he never once-in all of his ramblings about his siblings-mentioned that his sister wasn't some adolescent child or idiot to be cared for like Redfield's wayward fledgling. Though to be fair, Claire was smart with a decent head on her shoulders. She just seemed to defer to Chris as much as she could to make him 'feel better' . . . or at least that's what Valentine believed.

_But **Shaw's** sister was nothing like that . . . _

She was petite and blonde-with hair lighter than his own- but her skin seemed darker; tanned and warm to the touch. And soft. When he'd shaken her hand as they'd been ushered into her home, he'd noticed that while she had calluses from some type of work her skin was still soft and smooth to the touch . . . and she had a good grip. He glanced at her without his glasses and had to admit that her own eyes were startling. They were a light almost iridescent blue green . . . though neither color seemed to truly dominate the other. And the small flecks of light almost white blue mingled towards the rims of her irises made her eyes seem incredibly large and open. Well, that and the thick fan of sooty lashes surrounding them.

He'd heard Forest comment to Redfield that the girl looked like some sort of model . . . and while he would be more inclined to say she favored a classical beauty he would concede that she was nice to look upon. With the added bonus that she didn't seem to chatter incessantly. Suddenly Bastian's insistence that he meet the girl seemed to make more sense. As well as his easy acceptance of his odd ways. He shifted, finding himself curious as to what she did.

_You never know when someone would come in handy . . ._

"Bastian has mentioned you were attending University near here . . . but he neglected to offer that you were a Graduate composing your Doctoral Thesis. What area are you studying?"

She turned, pulling her plump bottom lip between her teeth before shifting; pulling the soft looking sweater she'd changed into a bit tighter around her. The oatmeal cashmere set well against the lighter, soft denim of her pants. And even though it hung off her shoulders and pooled around her knuckles he could still see she was toned and lithe . . . but still curvaceous enough to appear feminine; almost innocent as she glanced away from him, cheeks flushing.

_Ada could definitely learn a trick or two from this one . . ._

"I'm preparing my Forensic Psychology Thesis . . . and I have to proof read my Viral Pathology. I've already been awarded my Forensic Pathology but I wanted the secondary specialization. With all of the biochemical warfare at play today one can never be too safe. Or prepared."

He blinked, honestly impressed. She was intelligent . . . and not just in a passing or occupational standard. To obtain such a credential while already working as another was . . . admirable. He nodded, turning to look back at the lake as he took a larger drink of his scotch.

"Impressive. Are you currently employed? Or are you waiting to obtain all of your degrees before trying to procure a position?"

She laughed, shaking her head as she smiled to him. And he decided that he quite liked the way she laughed. Even if she was laughing at him.

"That's an odd way to ask about work, Captain Wesker. But yes I am employed. I'm helping the Coroner's Office in Racoon City a few days a week . . . and the rest of the time I'm up here trying to finish. I still have a few months but why procrastinate? What about you? You seem to be slightly over educated for your position."

He shrugged, turning to her with a raised brow.

"And what is wrong with an educated officer?"

She drained the rest of her glass before smiling at him, shaking her head. And she stood to walk by him back into the house he almost didn't hear her answer.

"Not a damn thing . . . Actually it just makes you more interesting."

* * *

_yeah . . . later guys._


	4. Chapter 4

_Thanks so much for everyone's reviews, faves and alerts. I just wanted to drop the note here that there isn't going to be tons of action-at least not at first anyway. I own nothing but my OCs and the ideas I'm playing with. And the virus here should be familiar but remember this is before the Asian outbreak of SARS so it would be like a big ol' treat for a virus lover like Wesker. On with the show . . ._

* * *

Bright blinding light and an echoing pounding rhythm were the first sensations to greet Bastian Shaw as soon as he opened his eyes. Prompting him to-very quickly- close them again as he rolled and tried to feel around for his glasses. He'd taken his contacts out the night before somewhere between his second and seventh drinks, hoping that the temporary relief would be enough to keep his eyes from hurting and aching now that he was up in the mountains with the God forsaken pollen his allergies detested . . . His fingers hit the cool, hard plastic; making him sigh in relief as his hand closed around the arm. Oh thank the Lord at least now he wasn't blind and in pain. But as he slid the thick black rimmed frames onto his face he released all of his hopes had been rather foolish.

He'd grabbed someone's sunglasses . . . and even though the tinted glass was helping with the hateful glare of sunlight pouring in from the open windows it wasn't helping him see. Actually everything around him was just dark and blurry instead of blurry. He sighed, shaking his head as he pushed up off the couch; glancing around the room in confusion.

Okay he knew that he and the others had killed more than their fair share of alcohol but he honestly remembered laying down in his bed the night before. So why in the hell was he on his sister's sofa? He slid the glasses off, tossing them to the table before rubbing his eyes; willing his beer and liquor ridden brain to properly function.

_What in the hell had happened last night?_

Movement to his side made him turn, his weak eyes landing on a large cream and rose splotched lump laying near his feet. He blinked, his eyes focusing enough to let him see that the rose splotches were actually flowers on a cream cover. But where in the hell had it come from? His sister for all of her love of the cottage actually hated most things that would naturally belong here. Vehemently. Meaning that the bright and cheerful faded quilt wasn't something she'd tossed over them late in the night.

_But who the hell had thought to bring a country quilt camping?_

The lump moved as Bastian reached out and felt around the table, finally securing his own spectacles and sliding them in place just as the rose decorated lump sat up. The covers pulled tight around whoever's face as a low, pain filled guttural groan sounded from the shadows. Bastian winced, reaching up to rub his temples as he tried not to outright cringe. God they sounded about like he felt.

The lump moved again, the covers pulling back just enough to show him Forest's face; the man's eyes barely open as his mouth hung half-open limply. And Bastian knew that if he didn't probably look as pitiful then he would be laughing his ass off. God Forest didn't look hungover he looked close to damn dead.

He reached out, placing a sympathetic hand on his shoulder as he groaned again; the younger man's head drooping just enough to let him see that both Redfield and Valentine were starting to stir in the background. He smirked, watching Jill sit up slowly; looking around before her bleary blue eyes landed on Chris. Bastian raised a brow as he watched her eyes narrow, one of her brows twitching in time to Chris's loud snores echoing through the otherwise quiet cottage. He nudged Forest, the man turning just in time to watch Jill reach out and pinch Redfield's calf. Hard.

The sniper flew off of the floor like a shot, looking around wildly before his hands flew to his forehead; clutching his skull as he flopped back into his pallet of covers. Only to groan and yelp when his head collided with the hardwood floors beneath the covers hard. Forest sputtered, laughing aloud before he groaned; clutching his own skull as Bastian chuckled weakly. While Jill just rolled her eyes and pushed to her feet, covering her face as she steadied herself.

After a few moments her voice carried to them, strained and obviously pained. And her tanned skin started to look, well green.

"Where's the bathroom Bastian?"

He pointed towards the back of the house, not even getting the chance to speak as she shot down the hallway. Nearly knocking Wesker and Claire down as she pushed towards the guest bathroom. Claire looked back towards her, calling out the door slammed closed. And Bastian knew-as they heard the very distinct sounds of retching-that the group probably wasn't going to be leaving for a while.

Claire looked over Chris as he groaned and rubbed his head on the floor; rolling her eyes before she turned back to him, eyes worried as she stepped further into the room. Wesker waited for her to move before he started towards the kitchen, shaking his head with a disappointed look as he stepped over Redfield; his voice low as he chided the other officer.

"Honestly Redfield. Did you need to pickle your brain as well as your liver?"

And Bastian suddenly wondered if tossing this man in with his own quirky smart ass siblings was such a good idea. They were either going to humanize the man or drive him completely and totally insane. A vision of Wesker perched in a bell tower with a highpowered sniper rifle, picking off random people as he laughed maniacally . . . targeting any and everyone that even closely resembled his brother and sister or Redfield popped into his mind. He shook his head, looking around slowly.

_Speaking of Chaos . . ._

He sighed, pushing to his feet to find his missing siblings. He needed to make sure that Khail hadn't done anything too terribly stupid the night before and break the news to his sister. They were going to have company until sometime in the afternoon. Or at the very least until the others were sober enough to hike the five and a half miles up the mountain to the larger spring-fed lake.

He just hoped she didn't skin him for being the messenger.

* * *

Chaosia sighed, trying not to grind her teeth as she listened to the rather rowdy group toll around her house; trying to keep her mind focused on the results slowly flickering on the screen before her. God if this wasn't worse than waiting for stain panels to set! But-she kept reminding herself-as soon as they were packed the majority of her problems would be marching straight out the door and further up the mountain. She closed her eyes, counting to ten in her head as she grasping the fraying tendrils of her waning patience tightly without finally snapping.

It'd been hard enough to keep her attention on the reports and work before her without the noise and ruckus inside, her mind wanting to wander to the tall statuesque captain that had sat and talked with her the night before on its own. She frowned to herself, disappointed that the she'd let the short conversation affect her at all. So the man had a nice, deep voice and pretty blue eyes . . . so did at least 39% of the men in Raccoon city. And none of them made her skin want to jig off of her body after the flood of hormones died out.

God this was only going to cause problems. But then again most things that involved her family did just that. She snorted, shaking her head as she reached up and pinched the bridge of her nose. She wasn't being fair and she knew it. She knew that Bastian meant well by bringing his boss with him . . . just like she knew that for all of his idiocy that Khail wasn't honestly trying to grate her nerves. But she really just wished that for once they'd thought instead of just acted. Because now-instead of ust having the dynamic duo and the confusing borderline antisocial Captain to contend with- she was losing valuable time and peace of mind. She was already going to have to cut her holiday short and take on more days at the coroner's office.

She opened her eyes, reaching out and taking a large draw from the thick tumbler of scotch; barely even noticing the burn as the dark liquid blazed down her throat to settle hard in her stomach. Apparently the secondary pathologist and medical examiner for the Raccoon City Coroner's Office had decided that no calling-no showing was the best way to announce she was leaving her position. And now-after the others had tried to call both her home and cell phones- they still didn't know what had happened to the woman. Only that her apartment had been vacated and no one could reach her . . . and that Dr. Connors swore there was a new permanent position for her should she want to take it after she turned in her thesis.

Chaosia turned her eyes back to the house, tracking the movement of the interlopers through the French doors and windows before she rolled them; turning back to glare at the lake ruefully. She shifted in her seat, knowing good and well that she was pouting as she watched a crane skim the smooth surface of the lake before she closed her eyes again but she couldn't help it. She was supposed to be up here to relax and spend time with her brothers, to try and squeeze some quality family time in between working on this. Not babysitting Bastian's coworkers, entertaining Khail's latest piece of ass-because she didn't buy that they weren't sleeping together no matter how hard he tried to sell it to their brothers- and worrying over trying to fit a now full work schedule in on top of her Graduate work.

_Or hiding from a certain blonde captain now that she was awake and aware of how big an idiot she'd made of herself._

"Chaosia?"

She turned, the new voice breaking her from her thoughts; her eyes landing on Claire Redfield. The young redhead was standing just on the outside of the largest French doors, her normally pale cheeks tinted pink as she worried her bottom lip between slightly crooked white teeth. The tiny imperfections she could see weren't offsetting in the least, actually they just added to her appeal. And in that instance-as the girl shifted on her feet, glancing back to the interior of the house uncertainly before stepping closer- Chaos could admit that she understood what her brother saw in the kid.

She wasn't loud or annoying-like her brother had proved he could be, especially drunk-, she wasn't stupid-if the well used hulking school books she'd spotted tucked away in her hiking pack were any indication- and she wasn't some pampered primadonna princess. She was just young . . . a fucking baby. Chaosia sighed, nodding to the chair beside her as she pushed her aggravation back. She needed to at least try to be nice. Even if the word wasn't usually in her vocabulary.

Claire stepped closer, almost touching the back of the chair before she stopped. Chaos raised a brow, watching the other girl's cheeks stain dark as she glanced to her boots quickly; shuffling on her feet as she shifted nervously. Which just made Chaosia roll her eyes behind the thick fringe of her bangs. Seriously? Why did this girl act like she was seven foot tall and about to devour her or some shit? She was just sitting here . . . she wasn't ranting and raving or threatening her. But apparently the quiet unnerved Claire Redfield more than an outright threat or verbal confrontation would.

And as the girl glanced back up Chaos could admit she almost felt sorry for intimidating her so badly. But she wasn't about to start acting like she was head over heels for the kid. Like she'd said before, Khail was fucking her . . . not her. And if she couldn't handle a little silence then she was in for a ton of trouble when she started working.

"Uh . . . Bastian said I could use your laptop to double check the weather. But I wanted to ask you first . . . I mean, I hate it when Chris and Jill just hop on without asking. And you're using it."

Chaosia blinked, glancing down to the thin silver computer in her lap before she shrugged. She had at least another fifteen minutes before she could even start on the next subtopic for her report so why not? Besides the girl had asked . . . that was a hell of a lot more than her brothers usually did. She cut her eyes to Claire before looking pointedly to the seat, dipping her chin towards the chair as she started closing unnecessary programs and minimizing the others.

Claire seemed to start before practically falling into the chair bonelessly, watching as she typed away on the keyboard. Chaosia rolled her eyes behind her glasses as Claire looked around the back porch curiously, biting her lip to keep herself quiet. She knew that Bastian had shown them the entire house and the property; meaning the girl had been out here at least once. Which meant that all of her looking around was how she planned to keep herself out of trouble.

She cut her eyes back to the other girl, grinning mean spiritedly to herself as the kid jumped when she spoke. God she was so damn jumpy . . . meaning that Khail had probably told her all about how 'horrid and temperamental' she could be.

"Thank you for that. I highly doubt Bastian would know how to work some of these programs. He's not the best with electronics if you haven't noticed. The backup should only take a moment. Once the deskptop is visible again feel free to check anything you need."

Claire grinned and nodded, letting Chaosia know that she'd seen her eldest brother get shocked trying to set up the seldom used TV the night before while the others had drank and laughed. And somehow the fact that the girl hadn't outright laughed and picked on her blushing brooding half brother just made her the tiniest bit more tolerable . . . until she remembered that the girl was dating Khail. Who was known for occasionally blowing himself-and whoever was unfortunate enough to be near him- up while he tinkered with whatever he found.

She handed the girl the laptop, watching her eyes scan over the series of slides that were cycling quickly across the screen. Claire's brows knit in confusion as her eyes came back up to lock with hers; her plump lips drawing down in a tiny frown.

"What in the world are these? Alien snapshots?"

Chaosia smirked sardonically, shaking her head as she reached over; tapping the touchpad before she opened up the primary images of the study.

"No, they're not aliens . . . just viruses. One actually."

Claire looked at her, clearly even more confused as she shook her head.

"Look, I'm the first to admit that I suck at biology and physiology but even I can tell that these are different. I mean, they can't be the same virus if the protein tail fibres are different right?"

Chaos blinked, looking over the girl impressed before she turned back to the screen. In any normal circumstance the girl would be right, the type of differences to the fibres representing differences within the actual infrastructure of the control sample. She pointed to the capsid, explaining what they were seeing.

"Actually what you're seeing is a mutagenic evolution of a virus. This is how the sample was originally structured at the beginning of the observation when it was collected and cultured. Each proceeding stain marks a definitive change in the structure and function of the disease-"

**_"Disease?"_**

Chaosia nodded, reaching up to push her hair out of her face as she continued; explaining what she'd been steadily working on for over a month. And while it was obvious that most of it was out of Claire's intellectual grasp she could tell it wasn't by much. The girl was smart . . . so what in the hell was she doing with her brother?

"Yes. In this case-" she moved, clicking away from the slides they'd been looking at to the secondary sample. The one she would actually be turning in for her grade. She looked back to Claire, smiling at her a bit warmer as she nodded back to the screen. "This little bugger is a dying strain of the SARS coronavirus."

Claire blinked at her, clearly confused.

"The what-a-what now?"

Chaosia chuckled, shaking her hair free of its ponytail as she started talking about the virus that had originally caught her interest. It wasn't unusual that Claire didn't know about it . . . very few people had been exposed at this point, most government agencies and disease control centers preferring not to air this particular finding in fear of starting a global panic.

"One of three new human coronaviruses that are starting to have a bigger effect on the world. Before they found this strain in Asia last summer virologists and viral pathologists only knew about the HCoV-229E and HCoV-0C43 strains-"

Claire paled, looking up almost frantic as she bit her bottom lip hard enough for the flesh to turn white. And Chaosia suddenly felt bad for making her worry before she shook herself. This is why people needed to be educated about the viruses at play in the world today. That way when something truly horrendous popped up they wouldn't mistake it for something small . . . or vice versa.

"Wait-what! That sounds pretty serious. What is it like a new plague or something?"

"No, Ms. Redfield. They are two of several viruses thought to be possible causes for the common cold. What are the two of you doing?"

Claire's head spun towards the new voice hard enough that Chaosia knew she'd given herself whiplash, her cheeks flushing as she pushed out of the seat; nearly dropping her laptop in the process. Chaos raised a brow, looking to Wesker as he stood just behind the chair Claire had been in; his hands firmly planted in the pockets of his dark slacks as the dark blue crew necked shirt clung to his shoulders and chest before hanging limply around his waist and torso. The man seemed the epitome of calm and collected but something about the way he was standing-how he held himself screamed he was anything but.

If anything he seemed almost _**worried **_as his eyes flicked over them behind the lenses of his glasses, like they'd been looking over something they weren't supposed to. But how in the hell could he know that? And how long had he been eavesdropping on their impromptu virology lesson? Claire had no idea that the first series of slides were from the morgue-or more to the point a body found almost completely dismembered at the base of Arklay Mountain. Or that the only two people who knew of the virus's existence were herself and the oh-so-wonderful Dr. Connors. And she knew-from the weight of the man's glare burning her skin- that he didn't need to know that either.

She shook herself, watching Claire stutter and falter in front of the Captain. If she intimidated the poor kid then Wesker terrified her.

"Um no-nothing, sir. I just uh-I'm gonna go back in and see if the others are ready yet. Thanks for telling me about that Chaosia."

She nodded, watching the other girl dart back inside; her brows nearly in her hair line as she turned back up to look at Wesker. The man dipped his chin, his ever present sunglasses sliding down his nose as he shrugged. And she wasn't too terribly surprised when he moved and sank into the chair beside her the same as he had the night before.

But something was different now. Before he'd been quiet and almost charming, his demeanor-while tense and oozing with dominance- hadn't seemed intimidating or overbearing. But now . . . now he seemed almost like a tyrant. She furrowed her brows, suddenly truly uneasy for the first time since she'd earned her first doctorate. Being the youngest in the lab, morgue and her classes she'd learned not to let anyone make her feel like she was less; deliberately making sure others were more put-off by her than she could be by them if she had to.

Albert Wesker however seemed to be immune to that. Actually it seemed- as he lazily pulled one of his legs up and into his lap, crossing it over his knee and resting his hands on his calf- that he was to be her kryptonite . . . And as he nodded to her, extending his hand towards the laptop almost like an aggravated parent she knew she didn't appreciate it. At all. She moved, closing out the Arklay viral stains with a quick tap-and isolating them to her private locked files- before handing him the computer; smirking at the slight tick his left eyebrow gave when he realized that the only thing up were the SARS coronavirus stains.

_So he **had** been eavesdropping._

She nodded to herself, crossing her arms as she settled back into the plush chair; feeling smug and relieved all at once. He wouldn't be able to go traipsing through the computer with her sitting here-not without causing an all out and out fight- and she would be diligent in making sure to keep the damn thing with her until she could lock it away in the gunsafe in her closet.

He looked back up at her, his glasses sliding down his nose as his eyes roamed her face; showcasing disappointment, aggravation and just the slightest bit of approval as he sighed and shook his head. She knew her own cheeks probably matched Claire's now but she refused to turn away. She wasn't a scolded child and she hadn't done anything wrong. Conners had given her the samples to track and work with because of her viral specialization . . . and if Albert Wesker had anything to say about it then he could kiss her ass.

She had no idea what was going on here but she didn't like it. And she would keep an eye on it.

* * *

Wesker looked at Chaosia over the rim of his sunglasses, trying to string the proper words together to reprimand her. He'd seen the other samples she'd been looking over, the other virus. It was one that he knew all too well. Hell at this point both he and William Birkin knew both the G and T viruses almost as well as he knew Progenitor.

But as he watched Chaosia look back at him unrepentantly, her cheeks darkening even as she seemed to preen in front of him he found himself at a loss. He knew he needed to dispose of her, to warn her away from having anything further to do with this but he couldn't seem to make his lips form the actual warning. And it didn't sit well with him. At all.

He knew that part of it was because she was Bastian's family, that she was the sister of one of the only people to actually treat him like a person instead of a meal ticket or some sort of prodigal pariah but there was more to it. He was honestly impressed with her. She was so different from most of the others that he dealt with. Hell even Bastian and William had their moments where he would honestly rather shoot them than listen to them draw their next breath. But Chaosia . . . he'd known her such a short amount of time and he had yet to correctly categorize or anticipate her actions.

This girl was a paradox. A paradox wrapped in a conundrum wrapped in an enigma. One that was stubborn and dedicated-especially if her brothers were to be believed. And while he knew he needed to step in, to intervene before she uncovered something that would pit her against him he suspected that if he told her to stop she would only push ahead to do exactly the opposite. Something he didn't want to happen just yet.

Which is what was making this so damned hard. How did you warn someone without warning them? Manipulate someone who was close to your intellectual equal to do your bidding without tipping them off? Every single person he'd dealt with to this point had been simple to control once he'd found their crutch . . . and he had no clue what hers was. She'd proven she had no problem inflicting pain upon her own kith and kin and that-while not exactly rude- she wasn't eager to form new and superficial attachments to other people.

Other than her school and work-which seemed to dominate most of her life- he had no idea where to even begin to strike. _Unless . . ._ He paused, the simplicity of his next thought so stunning that he almost smiled. He was a doctor, a key researcher within the biochemical and genetics division-not that she ever needed to know. He could figure out more than a few things to keep her chasing her tail. The same way he did Redfield and the others in STARs and the RPD when they got too close something the company didn't want them privy to.

He grinned, looking back to the screen before he shrugged. They would play it her way for now . . . and if she got too close he would send her in another direction. He clicked the touchpad, looking over the slides in feigned boredom as he spoke; transforming her smug look to one of confusion. She'd honestly expected him to speak out against her, to tell her what to do. He grinned mentally, almost crowing at the tiny victory. Wesker-1. Chaosia-0.

"I must say I'm impressed . . . the young Claire almost seemed to understand what you were saying. This is the SARS-CoV . . . am I right?"

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself as she shifted in her seat; her hair falling around her face wildly as she cut her eyes to him. She was still looking to him guardedly but she seemed at odds, like the fact that he hadn't reacted the way she'd thought had thrown her. He smirked, clicking through the slides lazily as she spoke.

"Yeah . . . it's a dying variant strain that underwent forced mutation. The sample was given to the viral pathology division of the University for testing and research about six months ago."

He nodded, reaching up and pulling his sunglasses off; folding them and tucking them on the neck of his shirt. He kept looking over the screen as he spoke, glancing at her from the corner of his eye ever so often.

"I haven't seen a true stain of this yet. Have they reported any casualties thus far?"

She shook her head, pushing her hair away from her face as her cheeks started to return to their normal color. He glanced at her, watching her start to relax more and more; becoming just a bit more at ease with every second of their exchange. Oh he could tell she was nowhere near trusting him but she wasn't as on-guard as she had been. She even leaned across and tapped the screen, resting one of her hands on the arm of his chair; her eyes cutting to him quickly as her cheeks tinted pink again.

"Not as far as I know. We were given that sample by some new agency. They apparently found it and two others- NL63 and HKU1- in some kind of raid last year. As far as we can tell while they aren't designer they have been tampered with. See the uncommonly thick hemagglutinin esterases?"

Wesker nodded, temporarily forgetting about keeping score as he watched the protein spikes lengthen and thicken from slide to slide. Whatever lab had done this had been thorough . . . the change almost looked natural. But he could see the small rings in the spikes that signaled it had been artificial, the seemingly small change helping increase the virus's lifespan by almost half. And they hadn't even weaponized it yet . . . He looked back up to Chaosia, honestly interested in the prospect before him.

"Symptoms and contraction methods?"

"As far as I could tell? Severe illness marked initially by systemic symptoms of muscle pain, headache, and fever, followed in 2–10 days by the onset of respiratory symptoms, mainly cough, dyspnea, and pneumonia. Another common finding in the models is a decrease in the number of lymphocytes circulating in the blood . . . Its an airborne contagion. "

He nodded, impressed and concerned all at once. No disease control center would be prepared for a virus with this level of adaptability. He glanced back towards the house, watching the others scuttle around aimlessly. How long did it take them to pack up a single change of clothes and stuff the rest of their camping gear back into Redfield's vehicle? He looked back, noticing that Chaosia's eyes were settled on the others as well; her left eye ticking as a loud crash sounded from the kitchen. Scant seconds later they heard both Bastian and Redfield start up, their voices almost drowning out Forest as he sheepishly apologized.

"Forest! Be careful!"

"Damn it kid! Chaos is gonna skin me alive for that! Clean it up! NOW!"

"Jeez guys . . . it was just an accident-"

Wesker turned back to Chaosia, reaching out and patting the hand on his chair; giving her a sympathetic smile as her shoulders seemed to sag. She looked back up at him, giving him a tiny grin before she glared back at the house; muttering under her breath as they heard something else break. Right before the very aggravated voice of both of her brothers were joined by Valentine and the Redfield siblings.

"Jesus just let them leave while I still have dishes to eat on."

Wesker chuckled, letting his hand rest over hers as he shook his head with a wry grin.

"Trust me dear heart, from the tone of Bastian's voice Forest is probably going to spend the rest of his visit on your front porch-"

Another crash sounded, this time followed closely by Jill and Claire's yelps and a very masculine curse that could've only come from Redfield. Chaosia went to push to her feet when he moved, stepping inside to investigate; the young woman following him closely. He just hoped for her sake that the others would be leaving soon. Her nerves didn't seem like they would be able to handle much more of Alpha team's antics . . . not without bloodshed.

* * *

_see you next time space cowboys . . . _


	5. Chapter 5

_Okay guys. Edited this at work so if i missed anything, sorry. I'm trying to keep Wesker as in character as I can, even if this is AU. On with the show. _

* * *

Albert Wesker watched Chris Redfield load the last of their few bags into the back of his Jeep, the man gritting his teeth hard enough to crack as he grumbled and growled. But Wesker guessed he couldn't really blame him . . . he didn't know how well he would fair if it were his younger sister salivating all over an obviously older man-er, boy. He shook his head, turning to glance down at Chaosia as Bastian kept her close to his side; his arm shackled around her shoulders as the man kept a weather eye on the tearful-and apparently kiss filled- goodbye occurring at the bottom of her steps.

He raised a brow, watching as the girl's shoulders tensed; her jaw clenching as she balled her fists. And he knew that this wasn't happening anywhere near the pace it needed to. Not for Claire Redfield to be able to leave with both a brother and a boyfriend intact. Finally Chris's patience reached its ends, his voice gruff and hard as he snapped at the two over his shoulder.

"Damn it Claire. C'mon. Everyone _**else **_is already loaded."

Claire pulled away from Mikhail, glaring at the back of Chris's head as he moved to crawl in the driver's seat; calling over his shoulder to Bastian as he went.

"Thanks for the hospitality folks. We'll see you guys in two days."

Bastian nodded, keeping Chaosia close as she snorted and rolled her eyes; turning to glare at Mikhail as he spoke to Claire again. And Wesker suddenly wondered if whatever affection was between them was worth this. It was obvious that neither of their families were too thrilled about this between them-though he didn't know if it was honest objections or their own paranoia-and yet they seemed fine. Aggravated and indignant if the twin looks of exasperation they were shooting towards Redfield as he honked the horn were anything to judge by but fine.

"I wish I could go with you . . . it'd be more fun than watching my sister work herself to death while Bastian does whatever with his boss."

Chaosia broke him from his musings as she shifted again, leaning her cheek against Bastian's bicep. Her bottom lip was slightly puckered and her eyes seemed just the tiniest bit sad, almost watery as her voice floated over the three of them. And Albert Wesker realized that while Mikhail's shenanigans weren't really affecting Bastian-other than making his eye twitch the same way Chaosia's had on the porch- they were apparently hurting her feelings.

"Just tell him to go, Bastian. If he doesn't want to be here then he doesn't have to be."

Bastian looked down at her, his face showing just how much hearing that had upset him before he sighed; shaking his head as he hugged her closer. His hand rubbed her arm through her thick oatmeal cableknit cardigan. She ducked her eyes down, her bags shielding her eyes as he spoke. But Wesker could see that Bastian wasn't happy with her response to his opinion.

"Oh c'mon Chaos. He'll get over it five seconds after she's gone and you know it. Just let them get gone and we'll start coo-"

"Just tell him, Bastian. I'd hate for him to have to see someone do work. Speaking of which, I have research I'd much rather do than see him slobber all over that girl. Excuse me."

Wesker watched her pull away, pushing back into the house quickly as Bastian looked after her. He frowned to himself as Bastian growled and stalked down the steps, motioning for Chris to get out of the car. And while he watched the two elder siblings talk and-from their body language-gripe he realized something troubling. He hardly knew enough about Redfield and Shaw to accurately decipher their actions . . . because he'd been sure that-before Redfield cursed and reached into the car, cutting the engine-both men were just going to tell the idiots to suck it up. But here they were, both moving towards their younger siblings with determined strides.

He sighed, turning to step back into the house as he left the others to deal with the drama. He hated being underinformed about anything . . . even something so seemingly trivial as this. Who knew what this abrupt change in attitude could lead to if it happened at the precinct? Or worse yet out in the field? He crossed the threshold, moving towards the simple inviting bedroom he'd been allotted. He needed to find somewhere quiet to think . . . and maybe in his wonderings he just might figure out why seeing Chaosia upset bothered him.

_Even if it was only a little._

* * *

Bastian growled as he moved through the kitchen, trying his hardest not to slam any of the cupboards shut as he got the things together to make dinner. Chaosia had already basted and infused the roast, letting it marinade in the fridge overnight so that the flavors would seep from the tender cut once it was cooked. And it didn't escape him that she'd forgone his own favorite recipe-saffron, citrus and sage- in favor of deferring to Khail's-lemon, garlic and cracked pepper.

Too bad the little prick wasn't going to be around to enjoy all of her hard work . . . he'd rather go off traipsing through the woods with his girlfriend. A girlfriend that had a very aggravated and angry older brother that was probably going to bury him. Bastian snorted, rolling his eyes as he moved to start quartering redskinned potatoes and hulling garlic. It would serve him right for hurting their sister's feelings . . . and for ditching them because a pretty little skirt batted her lashes.

He stilled, reaching up and running a hand through his hair; pushing it out of his face before he rubbed the heel of his hand over his suddenly tired eyes. If it weren't for the fact that they were three hours from Raccoon City he'd just order a damn pizza and be done with it. Because he sure as hell didn't feel like taking over mess duty now that Chaosia had locked herself away to pout and work.

Btu he couldn't really blame her. She'd been looking forward to this for weeks and with everything that was going on at the Coroner's office he knew she wasn't going to get a lot of chances for them to be together as a family until months after she was awarded her newest doctorates. Quiet footsteps made him turn, his eyes falling on Wesker as the man padded into the room to stand just on the other side of the small round dinette table.

Wesker had changed out of his slacks and into a pair of well worn jeans, the denim pooling around his socked feet while his dark blue crew necked shirt was tucked into the waistband. He'd pushed the sleeves to his elbows and had actually forgone his sunglasses now that the others were gone. Letting Bastian see the eerily light, intelligent blue eyes taking in every detail of the kitchen as he pushed his hands into his pockets.

Bastian raised a brow, watching the Captain survey the room for a few long moments before he sighed and turned back to washing the potatoes as he shook his head. He'd brought the man up here to unwind, to try and get him to lighten up before whatever invisible burdens he shouldered suffocated any potential for him to enjoy his life . . . He'd even confessed to Chris-in a drunken stupor he could totally deny should the man forget his promise of secrecy-that he'd hoped the man might actually find a friend in his sister.

The two shared a love of knowledge, an almost innate hatred of crowds and people in general and seemed to crave quiet and privacy. He'd hoped once he forced them together that Chaosia's more personable side would come to light. And that she could help him give the man standing awkwardly in their kitchen someone other than himself and the other members of STARs to connect to.

But now he realized how stupid that particular hope had been. Chaosia was going to be hurt for the next few weeks over Khail's stupid judgment call- and honestly with how eager he'd been to pack and get out the door he was a little pissed and hurt right about now. So expecting her to be cheerful or even personable for the next two days was out of the question.

Wesker sighed, making him turn just as the man stepped up to stand beside him; looking over the bowls in the sink in unveiled interest. Bastian grinned mentally, counting down the seconds in his head until the blonde's voice filled the otherwise quiet room. Making him smirk for real as he explained what he was doing. It didn't really surprise him that Wesker hadn't ever seen anyone cook but himself . . . or that he'd obviously never been part of a family dinner. Something that reminded him so much of himself and Khail when their father had first married Millennia.

"What _**are**_ you doing?"

"Cutting potatoes."

Wesker sighed again, this time the sound so much heavier than it had before. And Bastian decided as he asked his next question not to take the opportunity to aggravate him any further. He instead parroted the same answer the woman who would become his mother had told him, letting the nostalgia wash over him as his hands sliced through the meat of the vegetable smoothly.

"So I can sauté them. I've got garlic over there that needs to be hulled if you want to help."

Wesker didn't speak again for a few moments, instead reaching over and picking up the cloves; holding them gingerly as he slowly pulled the husks off of the bulbs. They worked together in quiet for a long while, Wesker seemingly content in the silence while he let himself actually miss his mother for the first time in years. Between his own trials and tribulations with the Rangers, helping keep Khail out of trouble and worrying over Chaosia advancing so quickly in school, pushing past every bar she set for herself and aiming for even higher goals he hadn't had the luxury of just missing Millennia.

He glanced over his shoulder, looking to the worn polaroid tacked on the fridge. His eyes traveled over the smiling faces printed on the paper, his mother's warm light blue eyes gazing blindly back at his as she rested her head on the top of Chaosia's then chin length messy tousled curls. His mom was dressed in a simple white daydress while Chaos was in a peachy pink cardigan and white lacy top. Khail was to their left, his hair spiked haphazardly; the longer tendrils hitting his shoulders and neck as his black band tee shirt was plainly visible. And his younger self was to the right, dressed in a dark button down with his hair pushed back away from his face; the ends barely brushing the middle of his neck as he smiled to the camera.

"When was that taken?"

He shook himself, turning back to see Wesker had stilled beside him; his own eyes on the same small picture that was nestled in the sea of other photos. Bastian smiled, turning back to slicing as he explained the situation; keeping his eyes on the blade as he spoke and Wesker listened.

"I'd just graduated from high school two years early. Mom decided to celebrate and we all went out to eat at a restaurant that a friend of hers owned. All night people were in and out, congratulating our family while Khail and Chaos picked on me. But Mom just smiled and laughed the whole time, separating us and making us pose when they came out with the camera. This was only a year before she died . . ."

Wesker nodded, depositing his clean hulled garlic in the almost empty bowl for him to cut before reaching out and grabbing a hand towel. As he wiped the garlic from his hands he spoke again, his voice softer than Bastian had ever heard it.

"She was beautiful."

Bastian grinned, nodding as he tossed the last potato into the bowl before moving on to the garlic. He halved the cloves, mixing the two together before depositing them in the large copper sauté pan; drizzling truffle oil over the top as he placed the pan on the burner.

"She really was . . . but the best thing about her was _**how **_she was, you know? She worked as an art teacher for a public school, but she had a Masters in Education and two Bachelors-one in art history and the other in musical theory. After the divorce-and how bad my asshole of a father drug her through the mud- it was about all she could do. But I remember no matter what she always made sure there was music, books and art in the house- even when doing that meant she was sacrificing something she might've really needed. And she was always so fucking calm about everything-the divorce, Father's new gold digging wife occasionally starting trouble, even her getting sick. She never let _**anything**_ bother her unless someone was messing with one of us."

A muffled growl carried from the study, causing both of them to turn before Bastian chuckled and shook his head. Apparently Chaosia had hit the proverbial brick wall for a while. Wesker raised a brow before turning back to him just as they heard something collide with a wall. Hard.

"Your sister _obviously_ favors her."

Bastian looked up at him, ready to tell him he was insane when he noticed the rare smirk tugging at the corner of the man's lips before he laughed; shaking his head as Wesker chuckled. And as they heard something collide with the far wall their laughter only increased. Soon enough both were laughing hard enough that they were leaning against the corner, Bastian near tears as Wesker's deep baritone echoed off the walls.

A few seconds later Chaosia came out, looking them over critically before she shook her head; throwing the brick portable phone at him before she growled. Bastian composed himself as he looked to the phone in his hands, perplexed to see it was; and-judging from the steadily blinking little red light- muted.

"Uh . . . what's going little sister?"

She crossed her arms, turning her head in a huff as she snorted; her eyes locked hard on the door frame as she spoke through clenched teeth. Which meant she was reigning in that absolutely horrid little temper of hers. But as she clenched her fists-her knuckles cracking loudly from the sheer pressure- he knew she was about two seconds from going off. Bastian was suddenly reminded of the temper tantrums she'd thrown during her early childhood as she enunciated every word, her jaw tight as she refused to look into the kitchen. But she hadn't been this angry in years . . . Actually the only time they even saw her get mad anymore was when Khail would push her buttons or do something particularly heinous-_oh _. . .

"He has some nerve, Bastian. Some fucking nerve! He up and leaves, abandons us to go off and flitter through the fucking woods with his little two-bit girlfriend. Then he keeps calling to ask me why I didn't stop working on my thesis to come say bye to them . . . and _**now**_ he wants us to stop-drop everything and pack our asses in the car to go up there to help them. I mean _**really?**_"

Bastian blinked, both Wesker and him straightening as he furrowed his brows. He pushed away from the counter, setting the phone down on the table as he crossed to his sister; gathering her up in a loose hug as she sagged against him. And when she rested her head against his chest he felt the tears he hadn't noticed before. Shit. She was crying . . . his baby sister was crying. Because his baby brother was an idiot. He sighed, pushing his fingers through her hair slowly as she wrapped her arms around his middle.

"What did he _**say**_ oh Chaotic one?"

She snorted again at the old nickname, burying her face in his shirt as she shrugged; her voice muffled as she hugged him a little tighter. But he knew she was close to smiling. Their mother had always insisted she'd named her perfectly . . . because Chaosia was-more often than not- the indirect catalyst for some type of trouble or havoc.

_Which was usually antagonizing Khail like any dutiful younger sibling. _

"Apparently they got a flat and they're more than a mile from the site they had picked to camp at. And your friend Forest unpacked Chris's jack and left it here when they were trying to make room for Khail's shit."

Bastian sighed, leaning back as he cupped her face. She wasn't full out bawling yet, just a few stray tears and a chapped bottom lip where she'd been worrying it. He glanced back to Wesker before looking back to his sister, watching her catch sight of Wesker looking them over perplexedly as her cheeks stained dark red. He bit his lip, trying not to snicker before he reached over and picked the phone back up. He needed to see what was going on . . . and see what they wanted him to do.

"Khail? Are you still there?"

"_Yeah. Is she still spazing out? Cause I gotta tell ya Bastian she just flipped on me for __**nothing**__-"_

He rolled his eyes, not even giving Khail time to finish his sentence. The two of them were definitely going to have to have to chat. Again. Because while he was happy Khail had found someone but damn it he was going to have to learn to prioritize . . . or one of the two of them was going to end up killing him.

"Yeah well she just took time off to spend time with us and to meet Wesker. And you jumped on the opportunity to run out as fast you could, bitching and whining about how bored you were almost as soon as you got through the door. After she went and got the stuff to fix your favorite dinner so we could spend time with her. You know before she goes to work full time at the morgue on top of going to school and starts pulling vampire hours again."

"_Oh . . . __**damn**__ it. She didn't say anything! When she started to get all moody I just thought the crimson tide had rolled in and- Is she mad?"_

Bastian rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he stepped away from Chaosia. God he was going to beat Khail to death one day. Even though he'd promised their mother he wouldn't, he was going to kill him. Or his little sister, who was standing just behind him-and edging further away from Wesker now that he had stepped closer- was going to beat him to it.

He snorted mentally, trying to turn his mind back to the matter at hand. If Khail died it would be him that killed him, not Chaos. He'd served in the Rangers and dealt with Wesker-who was usually about to shoot either Chris or Forest- on a daily basis. Prison would be a breeze. Besides she had Graduate school to finish and doctorates to use. No need for her to rot because their brother was an idiot.

"Nah, Khail. She's perfectly fucking happy. What do you think genius? But we'll talk about that **later**. Now let me talk to Chris."

He heard the phone change hands scant seconds before Redfield's voice flooded the phone. And it didn't really make him feel any better to hear that his friend sounded almost as frazzled as he did. He sighed, running a hand over his face in aggravation as he heard Chris snap at Claire and Khail again.

"_I swear Claire this is all your fault. Yes it is. Because you told Forest to just leave it instead of trying to make room that's why. And he's your __**boyfriend**__."_

Bastian winced, hearing the extra bite added to the last word. If anyone else had talked about Khail like that they would end up in traction . . . but he could understand where Chris was coming from. Hell he felt bad for whoever was dumb enough to try and date Chaosia.

"Hey Chris. What do you need?"

Chris sighed and as the noise from the others started to fade he knew he'd walked away from the group to speak.

"_Other than a damned chastity belt for her and muzzle for him? A bottle of Jack and a straight razor."_

Bastian grinned, trying not to laugh at how damned despondent he sounded. God they must be driving him insane. Chris however continued, unaware his sympathetic ear was nearly choking on his own giggles.

"_I swear! From the time we lit out man. Its been one thing after another. From Khail and Forest arguing over bikes to Jill getting pissed at me over putting Forest between them. To this shit. And then to find out the jack's at your damn house. I'm about to shoot something, Shaw. I just don't know whose gonna get hit first. Just bring the jack will you?"_

Bastian nodded, choking back a sputter of laughter before he spoke; careful to keep his voice neutral and controlled.

"Yeah . . . look man. I'll uh-yeah, man. I can do that if you need me to. You guys need anything else? Other than weapons, medieval contraceptives and alcohol?"

Wesker and Chaosia both turned to him, twin looks of confusion before his sister blinked and shook her head; shuddering as she hugged herself.

"Oh God. I don't want to know. Don't tell me, Bastian. I fucking mean it."

Chris snorted over the phone.

"_Yeah, just hurry. Or we're gonna bury a body before we go home."_

Bastian paled, moving to grab his coat and keys as Chaosia gave him a questioning almost accusing look. He shrugged, sliding into the coat as he shifted the phone from one hand to the other. And Chris's response to his plea made him move just a little faster. He sounded damn serious about all of this. Goddamnit he was going to kill his brother! Why couldn't he behave?

"Yeah man. I'm hurrying. Just calm down and don't kill anyone. Okay Redfield?"

"_No promises."_

* * *

_no one kill me. at least not yet._


	6. Chapter 6

_Wow . . . thanks so much for the faves and alerts -and reviews, can't forget about the reviews. Here's the next installment of this little drama. I own nothing but the idea and my OCs. Just to warn everyone the next few chapters are probably going to be drama filled-and we get to see some of Wesker's real attitude leak in. Nothing too, too bad though. No one kill me . . . on with the show!_

* * *

Chaosia raised a brow, watching Bastian move towards the door as he tossed her the phone; bouncing his keys from hand to hand as he hurried. She moved to follow, well aware that Wesker was right behind her. They stopped as Bastian reached for the door, the man's voice causing her to turn back to him with a raised brow as Bastian seemed to freeze.

"And just _**what** _do you think you're doing, Shaw?"

He turned, looking them over before he grinned to her sheepishly. And in that moment she knew he was abandoning her. Leaving her here-alone- with the very man he'd brought up here to socialize. She felt her heart freeze in her chest before it literally exploded, anger and hurt pushing against her ribs in a rolling boil as she narrowed her eyes at him. Oh this was so not happening. Not after everything else that had occurred since she'd opened the door for Khail to walk inside the day before yesterday.

"Oh c'mon you two. They need the help . . . and if I don't go Chris is gonna toss Khail in a shallow grave somewhere on the east summit."

Bastian shifted on his feet, his chin dipping as he looked up at her through his lashes; his own blue eyes becoming impossibly sad and watery as his pleaded with her. She snorted mentally, trying not to act on the impulse. He was giving her the puppy dog look? Really? The look that she had mastered and turned against all three members of her family when she couldn't talk or con her way out of trouble?

She crossed her arms, her eyes widening just enough for her to look at him incredulously before she finally rolled them. She turned from him slightly, uncaring that she probably looked like a spoiled petulant child. Her oldest brother-the good, level headed and loving brother who had never made her come second since their mother had drawn her last breath- was abandoning her. With one of the most egotistical and confounding people she'd ever met as her only company. Who-despite being sinfully attractive-made her skin crawl with the way he stared and acted.

As soon as she'd locked herself away because of Khail's attitude she'd taken a giant step back and looked over the very limited interaction she'd had with Captain Albert Wesker. And what she'd realized hadn't made her feel even slightly better about being cooped up with just him for any amount of time. He was intense but while he seemed content to try and interact she could tell it was forced. It was almost like their semi-conversations on the porch were some sort of experiment- not experiment. They were like some great sacrifice for him. All of his concern and questions hadn't seemed genuine at all until she'd shown she wasn't some idiot; like he'd already decided he was going to bear through whatever her brother wanted because there was no way anyone would meet his standards.

Something about him that set her on edge . . . because it reminded her entirely too much of the kind of person her father was rumored to be. Intelligent, entitled, cold and driven by nothing other than his own ambitions and needs. And completely uncaring of anyone or anything that got burnt to cinders in his quest to get what he wanted.

And then there was the way he'd reacted over the Arklay strain. Like she was doing something wrong and he was fighting the urge to correct her. She snorted to herself. She hadn't needed a father up until this point and she sure as hell didn't appreciate him behaving like he was going to step into the position. God the more she thought about it the more she was beginning to question Bastian's sanity. And understand him asking her for advice on how to deal with him.

Who better than the daughter who was almost completely like the father that resembled him so heavily?

She looked at Bastian, refusing to glance back at Wesker even as he stepped just a tiny bit closer. And suddenly-as her brother's eyes flashed to the man behind her-she wondered if even Bastian knew his reasons for trying to 'help' his boss.

"Fine. Go. But don't expect me to be here when you get back."

Bastian flinched before taking a step closer to her, moving away from the door as she turned from him completely. She kept her eyes closed, her arms huddled around her as she mentally ticked through the list of things she needed to do. If she played this right then she could get Wesker out of the house with Bastian . . . which would give her the time to actually pull herself together enough to be friendly when the rest inevitably followed her brothers back down the mountain.

Or give her a head start on escaping back to Raccoon City. God that idea was sounding better and better with every second that ticked by.

"Oh c'mon Chaosia. Don't be like that. If it were you, you know I would go-"

"No if it were me I would be right here. I wouldn't have run off with my girlfriend and ditched my family. And I sure as hell would've never let us leave without the proper equipment to handle something as controllable as fixing a flat tire. And why shouldn't I go? I can study alone at the townhouse and get far more accomplished in just as much time."

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

"Chaos you don't have to get this done right this second. Or even in the next few days. Besides I know you're just proof reading and bolster those damned novels you've written. You were done three months ago . . . now you're just being anal. So quit with the drama queen act and park your skinny little ass right back in the study. Or out on the porch or in your room or wherever else you want to hide-since you're obviously not going to tell me what's really bothering you. But you're not going back to Raccoon. At least not tonight. Its getting dark . . . and besides the food should be done by time I get back."

She cursed to herself, hating that he knew her well enough to read between the lines. Damn it! This is why she hated arguing with him. Khail let her run all over him-despite his pigheaded ways-but Bastian would stand his ground if he thought he was doing the right thing. Unfortunately for her he wasn't doing what she honestly needed him to do. She scoffed, glaring at him defiantly as she jerked her chin up; noticing the tiny flash to his eyes that just made her even madder.

Her brothers and mother had always done that, gasp or flinch when she did something that was so 'him' that it was heartwrenching. And once they'd finally told her it only served to royally piss her off.

"_**Really?**_ And who's going to stop me _**Sebastian?**_ _**You?**_"

Bastian straightened, giving her a skeptical look before he finally rolled his eyes; moving to the small table just inside the door. And it wasn't until he flicked her keys in the air and caught them that she realized what he was doing. She blanched as he nodded, turning and stalking out the door; calling over his shoulder before he slammed it.

"Yeah, brat. Me. Now be a good little idiot and stay!"

She blinked rapidly, looking at the door in shock before she finally turned; intent to stalk back off to her study. Only to run face first into the very hard, very immobile chest of Albert Wesker. She nearly toppled, his hands catching her arms in a vice like grip as she flinched. She looked up at him, stunned as he rolled his eyes; shaking his head as he tsked her. Letting her see that every single thing she'd been fretting over was right.

"_Tsk, tsk_. Such a temper Dear Heart."

She shook herself, jerking away from him as she stepped back; glaring up at him through her bangs and lashes as she pushed her hair aside.

"You have no fucking clue, Captain. So before you find out I would suggest you refrain from interfering."

She went to push by him when he caught her, his grip nowhere near as light as it had been scant seconds before. His blue eyes were locked on hers, his lips drawn tight as he glared down at her threatening; bending slightly at the waist so their noses were almost touching. And when he spoke it wasn't the same droll, deep baritone she'd heard thus far. His voice was darker, dangerous . . . with an almost velvet aftertone that made her want to shiver.

_Dear God who had Bastian brought into her house?_

"And you will do well to refrain from further displays of impertinence and egotism. Your brother is merely acting in the manner he deems best. There was no need for your dramatics, Dear Heart."

She growled, moving closer as she seethed at him through clamped teeth; her jaws aching from how hard she was clenching them.

"Just who in the hell do you think you are? In case you've forgotten you're a guest in my house, Captain. Not Bastian's or Khail's. Mine. So while it apparently isn't something you deem necessary I'm afraid my ego demands you treat me with respect. I'm not some airhead or imbecile. I earned my first PhD by the time I was nineteen. And am damn close to receiving another two. I have not worked myself near to death for some-some _**cop**_ to stand here and-"

His eyes flashed; his nostrils flaring indignantly before he seemed to collect himself. A second later he smirked down at her condescendingly as his grip tightened minutely, the slight tilt of lip enough to make her hands ball into fists seemingly on their own as her arms started to quiver. She-unlike her brothers- had never really been prone to unnecessary acts of violence. At least not since she'd earned her first doctorate. But seeing him grin down at her so smugly made her want to smear the smirk right off his face. And see his nose and lips gushing blood while she was at it.

"I'll do as I please, Ms. Shaw. You would do well to remember that I'm the _**cop**_ who is your dear brother's superior. I could choose to repay your little flare of temper against him. Or I could always tell him that you're working with a deadly virus; exposing yourself to unnecessary risk just to further your precious career. Tell me? How would your brother take learning that you've been in direct contact with an engineered virus that is constantly evolving? That-from everything you told me and everything I could deduce- you would be unable to survive should it be turned into the weapon its obviously being bred towards?"

Her eyes hardened into chips of aqua ice, her lips pulling back into another snarl as he jerked her closer; his grip tightening again to the point to where it was painful. But she didn't back down, hissing at him through clenched teeth as his face fell back into a visage of anger and annoyance. Before it morphed back to smug condescension.

"You wouldn't fucking dare- how do you even know that? I didn't tell you that!"

He smirked, shaking his head at her pityingly.

"Because I didn't attain my Doctorates in biochemistry, virology and genetics for nothing. You're one to three, Dear Heart. I knew the second you I saw the stain it had been tampered with. Just as I know Bastian will die if he ever suspected you were involved with it. For your thesis or not. Do we have an understanding?"

She bit her lip hard but nodded, forcing herself to calm down as he pulled back; looking self satisfied as he nodded to her. She went to pull away from him before he stopped her, his fingers digging into her skin slightly. She sighed in frustration, glaring up at him again.

"Oh for the love of-What do you _**want?**_"

He rolled his eyes before giving her an equally exasperated look.

"For you to stop behaving as a spoiled child. Your brother has done nothing but chatter about this trip for almost a month straight. I refuse to deal with him moping because you upset him."

She blinked, stunned. He wasn't going to try and blackmail her into showing him the other slides? If he could see something was up with the SARS stains then he knew something was off about the other. Actually he probably knew more than her. But he surprised her, his fingers squeezing her arm lightly as he continued to give her a pointed look. She sighed, glancing away before she bit her lip again; loathing herself even more as she spoke.

"I just wanted us to be together; as a family. No one else, you know? We haven't had many opportunities to do that in the past few years. And despite what he thinks I'm not done. Not even close since they dropped this virus on me. Up until two months ago I was assigned smallpox and anthrax . . . and now all of a sudden I was given this."

She sighed, looking up at him through her lashes.

"I apologize, okay? I just-don't say anything to Bastian. He worries enough as it is . . . and as crazy as all of this is making me it's only for another month. Then I'm free. I just have to get it done."

* * *

Wesker watched Chaosia as she spoke, trying not to notice the way she blushed. Or how she seemed intent to chew her bottom lip off whenever she would pause. He sighed, going against his better judgment as he released her; taking a step back as he nodded to her. He couldn't believe he was about to do this but his mouth seemed to work on its own; making the offer before he'd had the proper time to weigh the pros and cons.

"I could assist you in drafting the rest of your thesis. Review what your notes and help you refine the material. So long as you agree to cease this ridiculousness for the remainder of this . . . _**holiday.**_"

He watched her shift on her feet, looking up at him skeptically before she closed her eyes; obviously considering the offer before her. She would be insane to turn down the help of someone who had educationally surpassed her . . . but from everything he'd just seen he was confident stating that she was damned close to certifiable. So it wasn't too unthinkable that she would refuse his uncharacteristic aide. Or at least he hoped. But when she opened her eyes and looked up at him, her blue green irises locking with his own as her pink little tongue darted out to moisten her lips he knew he was not going to be so fortunate.

"Do you promise not to say anything to Bastian about the SARS? I know he won't know what it is but he _does _still have contacts in the Rangers and a particularly annoying ex that works with the CDC. Meaning that all it would take is one slip and he's in full freakout mode. I don't want him knowing about this. _**Period.**_"

Wesker raised a brow before an idea struck him, his lips curling into a small smirk of their own accord as he nodded. He shifted closer to her, bringing his hand up for her to take as he laid the final piece to her trap. If she agreed she would be in his pocket . . . and he would be able to keep her from outing Birkin's work before it was time. He still didn't know how she'd been able to find a sample of the G-Virus but she had . . . and he knew he needed to make sure she never solved the riddle of where and who it'd come from.

"If you agree to show me everything you've been working on. Including the slides you first showed Miss Redfield."

Chaosia looked at him warily, withdrawing from him just the tiniest bit as her eyes narrowed. He however had anticipated such a reaction and recovered, artfully setting her paranoia to rest when he gave her his most earnest smile. It had worked on women for years-from beauty queens to socialites to scientists. And he knew from the way she blushed that it hadn't failed him here.

"I assure you Miss Shaw that I am merely curious. I haven't worked in a lab in over three years but I do try to keep up with what's occurring in my fields . . . I honestly never thought I'd get the opportunity to see another fledgling virus in person. Especially a new human coronavirus."

Chaosia seemed to mellow, her cheeks still flushed as she looked at his hand. And-after a few baited breathes- she placed her petite hand in his, shaking once as she nodded to him. But when she spoke again she never bothered to pull away, her grip on his hand staying firm as she kept her eyes on his. God if she put her mind to it she would be terrifying; a great potential asset at his disposal. Now he just had to figure out how to mold her to his purposes.

_And exactly what he wanted her purpose to be._

"So long as you swear on your captaincy that you won't breathe a word to anyone else. I was given the sample for work . . . its from an active case and I am not supposed to share it with anyone."

Wesker grinned, squeezing her hand slightly as he nodded. The words leaving his mouth sounding sincere and heartfelt even though they meant absolutely nothing. But there was no need for her to know that.

"I swear, Dear Heart. On my badge and the safety of my squad, I won't tell a soul."

Chaosia nodded, going to pull her hand back; her fingers dragging against his palm before she wrapped her arms around herself again. She glanced to the kitchen then turned back to him, her eyes suddenly glimmering mischievously.

"Alright then. Are you hungry? Because I happen to know where there's half of a homemade red velvet cake tucked away."

Wesker grinned to himself, nodding as Chaosia's lips spread into a slow smile. He stepped back, extending his arm towards the kitchen as he dipped slightly at the waist in a mock bow. He knew he probably seemed goofy but damnation he felt too good getting his way to care. He needed to remember to put in for a raise for Shaw. Because for once having to interact with another human being-for a reason other than murder, sex or morbid curiosity- was going to pay off for him.

"Well by all means. Lead the way, Dear heart."

Chaosia rolled her eyes at the petname before giving him a pointed look, keeping her hands buried in the pooling sleeves of her cardigan as she led him towards the kitchen.

"I wouldn't do that in front of Bastian and Khail. Because boss or not my brothers aren't going to hesitate to try and intimidate and/or assault you if they even think you're trying something. They make Chris look tame."

He raised a brow before he grinned darkly, refusing to pass on the opportunity to have a little mean spirited fun at the girl's expense. It wasn't like she hadn't earned it by being so damned vexing. He stepped closer, dipping to speak over her shoulder; his lips brushing the outer shell of her ear as she shivered.

"Oh really? I guess I'll just have to use it in private won't I . . . _Dear Heart_."

She glared at him, putting her hands on her hips as she stopped in front of the counter; her embarrassment plainly visible beneath her ire and temper.

"Have so few people told you _**no **_that you don't recognize subtly when you see it?"

He shrugged his brows, easing back with a smug grin.

"I will admit I am accustomed to getting my way, Dear Heart."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to stretch so she could reach above the fridge; opening the top cabinet and tugging a large cake carrier from the hiding place. He reached over her, tugging it from her hands and placing it on the counter; grinning as she grumbled. When was the last time anyone had spoken so freely around him?

"Translated: Why yes I _**am**_ a cocky jackass. Thank you for noticing . . . and I _**am**_ going to continue to harass you because, oh you _**guessed **_it. I am a **sadist** at heart. _**Dear Heart**_."

He chuckled, not bothering to cover his laughter as she continued to gripe. And as she sliced pieces of the cake and moved to brew fresh coffee Wesker never realized that he'd laughed more in the past two days than he had in the past two years. Or that he was particularly thrilled by the way the girl leaned against the counter beside him, shoulder to shoulder as they ate cake and patiently waited for their coffee to brew; an almost easy silence falling between them.

_Maybe Bastian knew what he was doing after all._


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay kiddies. I just want to touch base here. One I struggled on how this chapter would play out. Still not sure about it but hey it fits with the direction I'm blundering towards so why not right? __This one contains a good bit of the aforementioned drama. I know it seems a little odd for this genre but I can't seem to kick the random ideas of how someone like Wesker-controlling, manipulative, terrifyingly intelligent and absolutely evil- would react to situations like this. I mean you have to assume that he's never willingly cultivated any relationship that didn't work towards his end goals . . . Just a little insight to my madness. Thanks so much for the reviews, favs and alerts. It means the world. _

* * *

** Family values?**

Bastian groaned as he trudged through the front door, shrugging out of his coat before he ran a hand down his face in frustration. He was going to kill Mikhail when he got back . . . because he'd been deliberately pushing Chris's buttons the entire trip. And as soon as they'd gotten the flat he'd only gotten worse. By the time that he'd gotten to the spot Chris had been about three seconds from shooting his brother and dismembering his body before he started chucking the pieces off the summit. But he knew that-even with the very harsh talk he and his brother had before he'd left to head back- that Khail was likely to continue giving Redfield hell.

Khail didn't like the way that Chris babied Claire-unnecessarily as far as he was concerned- or the way that Chris had snapped and snarled at him just for being there. And when he'd seen just how badly he could work under his skin, his brother had declared open season.

_He was too much like their father not to torture someone once he'd found a weakness to exploit . . . just like Chaosia when she was pissed._

He shook his head, tossing his keys onto the table as he pushed into the living room. Only to stop as he noticed exactly what he'd walked in on.

With the way Chaosia and Wesker had yet to actually speak to one another long than five seconds since the initial introductions that he'd come back to one of two things. Either they would both be locked away in separate rooms brooding and sulking or they would be at one another's throats, arguing and bickering because one had finally snapped at the 'indignation forced upon them' (Wesker's exact words when they were first heading out).

_So to walk in on this . . ._

Wesker was perched on the edge of the middle sofa cushion with Chaosia's laptop settled on the coffee table in front of him, his elbows resting on his thighs as his hands hung between his legs; clasped loosely as his eyes stared at the screen. He didn't react to his arrival, his light blue irises flying over the information before him as he tilted his head slightly to the side. Chaosia was nestled beside him; one of her thicker sweaters swathed around her shoulders as she reached out and actually touched the screen. She spoke softly, her finger moving over the display before she pulled away; picking up one of the twin thick glasses of Scotch on the table before them.

Bastian hung back in the shadowed entryway, watching Chaosia drain the remnants of her drink before moving to pick up the crystal decanter. But Wesker moved, beating her to it as he tugged the stopper free; easily pouring a fairly generous amount of the dark liquid into her glass. Bastian raised a brow, stunned as Chaosia-the same person who had pitched such a fit over being left here- laughed and nodded to his captain; clinking her glass against the decanter as Wesker rolled his eyes. Smirking as he set the crystal container down after topping off his own drink.

He stood there, watching the two of them settle back into their drinks and conversations; Chaosia and Wesker shoulder to shoulder as his sister chattered-_**chattered!**_- away to his Captain. And the man nodded and responded, neither seeming put off or bothered by having to carry on the conversation the way they normally would.

_What in the hell had happened while he'd been helping change flats and avoid murders?_

"So am I right? The protein barrier _is_ degrading isn't it?"

Wesker nodded, running a finger over the lip of his glass as he kept his eyes on the screen. But Bastian knew that his little sister had the man's full attention as he spoke, his voice thick and almost husky as he chuckled; adding his own input. And settled just a bit deeper into the sofa, causing him to slide just a hair closer to Chaosia. Who blushed prettily but looked up at him in rapt attention; practically hanging on his every word before she rolled her eyes and moved to point at something else on the screen.

"Yes. The decay increases exponentially from slide to slide. But it has to make one consider to what end? The barrier is protecting the RNA. If it degrades too quickly then the virus will be incredibly short lived, not having the proper time to spore and replicate before the host's immune system can eradicate it. A rather . . . _unfortunate_ drawback if this is supposed to be _**more**_ than the common cold."

"But isn't that the point, Captain? It's a coronavirus . . . these viruses cause _**colds.**_ If it stayed in the system any longer then the body wouldn't be able to combat it. Especially with the reduced volume of lymphocytes that results from the cellular waste produces when these little bastards expire. I personally wouldn't want to mess with it."

Wesker smirked, chuckling again as he leaned back; his arm going over the back of the sofa almost lazily as he shook his head. He took a drink from his glass before sitting it on his thigh, his hand on the couch support dangerously close to falling over Chaosia's shoulder. Bastian watched him shift, keeping himself from touching her even as she leaned back against the cushions. And when she drank half of her glass in the next go he felt himself start to get worried. Chaos rarely drank this much . . . and she'd killed over two bottles of her favorite scotch since they'd gotten up here.

He went to speak when Wesker beat him to it, letting his arm fall over Chaosia's shoulders and tug her into him; her head falling onto his shoulder as she let her own glass rest in her lap. Bastian watched them, amazed at how at peace the two of them looked sitting together on the sofa as the fire slowly died in the hearth. But he could tell-from the overly relaxed way the two acted- that they were pretty damn sloshed. And that he was going to need to separate them before something happened that he couldn't deal with.

_He'd wanted Wesker to find a friend in his little sister: not a damn fuck buddy._

"Oh I'm sure of that in any case, Dear Heart. I am merely pointing out that it seems more a natural viral reaction than a manufactured one."

Chaosia snorted, her eyes closing as she shifted closer to him; her cheek resting against the material of his shirt as she shivered. Wesker rubbed her arm, keeping her close as he glanced down to her with a raised brow.

"You Captain Wesker are incorrigible . . . but you're right. Why aren't you in a lab? I mean, what on earth made you want ignore three doctorates to be a cop?"

Bastian flinched as Wesker shrugged, his head lulling back against the sofa as he closed his eyes. And Bastian didn't even have time to register what his sister had just said before the man spoke again, asking a question very similar to one he'd voiced years ago.

"Boredom I suppose. The desire to do something more than just sit in a lab and stare at the walls while I waited for my _**'fellows'**_ to progress enough for me to actually work again. What of you? I'm sure the fields of viral and forensic pathology suited your talents and intelligence well enough that you didn't need to pursue any further accreditations. Why vie for forensic psychology as well?"

She shrugged, fiddling with her glass as she softly. But the answer Chaosia gave Wesker differed from the one she'd given him. Greatly.

"I-with everything I see at work I wanted to know why. When I was doing my residency I saw a little boy beaten by his father so severely that the body bag was sticking to the exposed meat on his back. Because that's all it was-meat. It didn't even look like human flesh anymore. I cried the entire autopsy . . . And do you know why?"

Wesker looked down at her as she looked up at him through her lashes, shaking his head after a few long moments. She shifted, shaking her head aggravatedly.

"It wasn't just because he was so young or he'd gone through such a horrible thing-that he'd died so needlessly and so painfully. It was because the cops that had responded came in with the body. They walked that kid in and stayed until we signed to take him. So I asked the lead why this had happened. You know what he said? This little boy's father had decided to beat his six year old to death with an old belt. Because he'd stepped in front of the television while he'd been trying to watch a football game."

Bastian watched Chaosia move, reaching up to push her hair out of her face as she shook her head again.

"I just-I could look at the aftermath and figure out what had been done. I could tell you what weapon caused what wound. What poison caused what organ and systemic damage . . . but I couldn't look at this and tell anyone why. I mean, I've always known why. And even though the cops just swore it was because the old bastard was evil it wasn't enough. What makes a person feel like something like that? I mean, what makes a person evil? To decide that its justifiable or necessary to take lives?"

Wesker seemed to stiffen against her before he relaxed, dipping to speak softly to her before he moved away; his nose nearly touching her cheek before he pushed to his feet and moved towards the kitchen.

"Because Dear Heart. There are some people who just don't deserve their next breath. They waste and squander everything they're given before they whine when they don't get more. Then there are some who are more useful as medical cadavers than as any contributing member of society; their bodies better used in search of cures and procedures than letting them continue to sully the earth with their existence. And some people Dear Heart are just evil. Wicked down to the very core."

Bastian watched him walk into the kitchen, shaking his head as he pushed into the room. Chaosia jumped like she'd seen a ghost, nearly dropping her drink as she yelped. She corrected, setting the cup on the table as she wiped the few specks that had dropped onto her jeans. He crossed his arms, giving her a pointed look as she looked back up at him; her face falling as she saw his expression. She bit her bottom lip, shifting on the couch as he continued to glare. Finally-after she fidgeted a little more- she growled at him, tossing her hands in the air.

"What, Bastian? Seriously, why are you glaring?"

He narrowed his eyes, jerking his head towards the office.

"Family conference, Chaosia. Now."

She pushed to her feet, moving past him with a hateful look as she made her way towards the office she'd practically lived in. And as he moved to follow her Wesker stepped out of the kitchen, brow raised as he watched her stalk past him. He turned to him, opening his mouth to speak when Bastian cut him off; moving to follow his sister.

"Save it, Captain. Right now I'm going to sober up my baby sister and see what the hell's wrong with her. Or _**you**_ for that matter. You _**do**_ remember she's my family, right? Not some pretty little airhead you can toss into bed and then abandon."

Wesker blinked before his face fell completely void of emotion, his eyes narrowing as he jerked his chin towards Chaosia.

"There's nothing wrong with her, Shaw. She is far from inebriated. And all that we were doing was looking over the virus sample she's composing her thesis around-"

Bastian gave a sarcastic bark of laughter, turning back to glare at him hard.

"That may work on everyone else Albert but you forget that **I'm **not an idiot. I _**know**_ what I just walked in on. And while the two of you were clambering on about viruses and cells and whatever else turns the two of you on I'm not stupid enough to think that's all that was going on."

* * *

Wesker glared down at Shaw, unable to even regard him as anything other than a nuisance at this point. He'd gotten up to get himself a cup of the coffee Chaosia had brewed before, hoping to give himself enough time to recover from his own display of brutal honesty when he'd heard the girl yelp. And as he'd stepped back into the den to check on her he'd been shocked to see her pushing down the hallway, angry tears trailing down her cheeks as she muttered to herself. With Bastian moving right behind him.

He'd gone to speak, to see what in the world was going on-because his scotch addled brain just couldn't seem to piece together what was happening- Bastian had rounded on him. Showcasing the venom he'd only read about in the man's file; the same venom and callousness that had made him a commander before he'd left the Rangers. Wesker wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd gotten angry then, his own ego flaring to life through the liquor and the ever present knowledge that he needed to stay on task-that he couldn't just shoot the man and be done with it the way he would a problem with Umbrella- falling behind his building rage at being questioned and scolded.

But even as he moved to stand nearly toe-to-toe with his teammate (with the man that had been steadily working to become one of his few coveted friends) he didn't want to admit that he was right. When he'd struck his deal with Chaosia he'd thought he would just end up pushing her in the direction he wanted her to go, telling her what-was-what and keeping her as far from his precious virus as he could. But as soon as she'd started up her computer-relocating them to the living room after they'd eaten- he'd realized he was wrong.

Chaosia was intelligent, able to see the minute details and nuances of virology that most biologists and chemists overlooked. And the biting sarcasm that had started to slip through once they'd actually gotten semicomfortable around one another made it bearable to be in her company. She didn't mind that he was brilliant-actually she seemed to like having another person to talk to about her interests- and he could tell she was as intrigued by him as he was perplexed by her.

When they'd started going over her actual papers he'd been pleasantly surprised. Bastian had been right; even with the limited time she'd been working with the SARS sample it was easy to see she was very nearly done. And all he'd had to do was help her refine and clean up some of her newer interpretations. So when she'd brought the Scotch out he hadn't even hesitated, helping her drain most of the decanter as they'd settled into a quiet conversation. From there it had progressed to the situation Bastian had apparently walked in on- the two of them snuggled together on the couch, drinking and chatting as they'd worked through the final few paragraphs.

Shaw moved, shaking his head as he pushed down the hall back after Chaosia; shooting him another icy look as he snorted. Wesker fought the urge to roll his eyes, stalking back into the kitchen and tossing the coffee cup into the sink hard enough to make it shatter. He gripped the edge of the counter hard enough for his knuckles to whiten, his chin dipping nearly to his chest as he tried to gather his thoughts. What in the hell was wrong with him? Why was he upset over something this trivial?

So Shaw was pissed at him for having a drink-okay half a bottle with his sister. And so the girl had proved to be tolerable, her own oddities and personality allowing him to actually enjoy human interaction rather than loathe it. Statistically it was bound to happen one day . . . He sighed, pushing back from the counter as he ran a hand over his face in frustration.

It was a mistake to come up here, to even attempt to be a part of something that wasn't a necessity for his cover. He wasn't with Redfield or Valentine, he wasn't with Burton and Forest. If he miss-stepped, faltered even the slightest then Shaw and his sister were bound to see it. Shaw wasn't put off by his normal mannerisms and his silence, Shaw wasn't deterred by his snide comments and snarky attitude. And now that he'd struck such a repertoire with Chaosia he knew that she wouldn't be either.

He growled, turning to go towards his bedroom. He hated to admit it but the only viable option here was a strategic retreat. He needed to withdraw before he did something else, crossed another social line he had never really cared enough to adhere to outside of work. He stilled, shocked by the realization that struck him. He hadn't been behaving as though he was on assignment . . . he'd been acting like he was with William. Like he wasn't worming his way through the RPD for Umbrella and evaluating the various uses for STARS.

He shook himself, continuing his trek-save a bit faster. He needed to get out of this house before he did something even more idiotic than he already had.

Who would've known that prolonged exposure to Shaw and his family-to his own squad- would make him react like _**this?**_

* * *

Chaosia rounded on Bastian as soon as he stepped in the room, not even giving him time to speak as she started yelling at him.

"What in the hell is your problem, Sebastian? What are you doing?"

He glared at her, dipping in her face as he growled at her through clenched teeth.

"What am _**I**_ doing? What are _**you** _doing! That's my fucking boss, Chaosia. My friend. And what did you do?"

She rolled her eyes, glaring at him.

"I sat beside him on the couch and we had a drink."

"I saw you together Chaos. You weren't just having a drink. You were practically on top of one another, laughing and talking. When I left the two of you wouldn't even stand near one another! You've barely spoken to him-"

She snorted, cutting her eyes to him.

"We talked the first night the rest of you got plastered; we had a drink together then and no one died. And then again this morning idiot. When you sent Claire out to requisition my computer?"

Bastian grew still his eyes narrowing dangerously as he looked her over. And the next words out of his mouth made her heart clench painfully. She knew he was upset with Mikhail. And she knew that he was stressed over ever everything that had been happening since they'd gotten up here. But it didn't excuse how he was acting.

"So you're really going to try and sell that the two of you were just talking? I've seen you just talk before. And you don't let anyone touch you."

"We were talking about my thesis, Bastian. About school and work. He has a background in virology . . . and when we finally started talking we just kept on. Because it was nice to actually be able to converse with someone without their eyes glazing over. If you're pissed about the drinking then fine. Be pissed at me. I brought it out and started pouring. Not him."

Bastian snorted, rolling his eyes. But his next words made her heart freeze in her ribs.

_How __**dare**__ he?_

"Oh I'm plenty pissed at you, Chaosia. Our mother and I didn't raise you to act like some drunken little debutante. Or to whore up to the first person who can actually carry on a conversation with you about viruses."

Her fist collided with his right cheek, the force of the hit actually making her brother stagger. And as soon as he turned to clutch his now aching jaw she cuffed the back of his head as hard as she could. Her brother turned, glaring at her as she practically seethed up at him from her position in front of the desk. Working to try to get herself under some symbalance of control as she watched blood ooze from his split lip.

Bastian, however, was having none of it-and almost made her laugh as he growled at her. Chaosia rolled her eyes, outwardly unfazed and swung when he stepped closer; opening his mouth to bitch at her again. And her fist connected in a solid right hook to his jaw as he squawked. God for a Ranger her brother was such a puss when it came to fighting either her or Khail. He could snap a stranger's neck like it was nothing but they had to get him seething and frothing at the mouth to even attempt to throw a punch. When he went to grab her again she stomped on his foot hard enough to make even her wince before she brought her other foot around in a solid roundhouse kick to connect with the same abused cheek.

Bastian staggered again, actually sliding down the front of the desk before he regained his footing . . . and caught her next swing, pulling her flush against him again. Both were breathing heavy, panting as they glared at one another. She didn't know if it was the Scotch or the fact that she'd just made a deal with a quintessential devil for his sake but his attitude-and Khail's- had finally made her hard earned patience snap. And since their brother wasn't here to share in the pain Bastian was going to reap all of it. He growled again, getting down in her face as he ground out through clenched teeth.

"Will you _**quit **_fucking hitting me?"

Chaosia glared back but nodded, jerking her hand away as he loosened his grip . . . before kneeing him straight in the balls. Bastian dropped to the ground while she crouched down eye level with her battered and abused eldest sibling. She waited for him to catch his breath, trying not to wince as he rocked and rolled to his side; holding himself as he whined.

_Maybe she'd hit him too hard . . ._

She shook herself, sighing as she closed her eyes. She hated that this had happened but she wasn't going to become Claire Redfield. Her brothers weren't going to control every aspect of her life . . . and Bastian sure as hell wasn't going to treat her like some incompetent little git. She reached out, pushing his hair out of his eyes as she looked over his cheek; wincing at the very evident swelling near his jaw.

"Bastian I-"

He batted her away, glaring up at her before he pushed to his feet; wavering unsteadily as he grabbed the edge of the desk. She waited for him to collect himself before he finally spoke.

"Damn it Chaosia . . . you hit harder than a fucking man when you're pissed. You know that?"

She bit her lip, trying not to return the smirk he was giving her. God they were so fucked up. She'd just beaten the shit out of him and he was chuckling at her. She moved, stepping into him as he straightened; not caring that he wrapped his arms around her. She buried her face in his chest, closing her eyes tight to keep the newly forming tears at bay. Oh great. She was drunk . . . 'tore up from the floor up'- to quote Paul- if she was already getting weepy.

Bastian sighed, tugging her tighter as he shushed her.

"I know him, Chaos. I've seen him with other women and the way that he does. He just uses them until he's bored and then moves on because he doesn't want that kind of attachment. Hell I'm beginning to think he doesn't want any kind of attachment with anyone. I don't want that for you."

He tilted her face up, brushing her tears away as he laid his lips against her forehead; running is other hand down her spine reassuringly.

"I'm sorry okay? I didn't mean to say that to you. I just- I don't want you to get hurt."

She stilled looking up at him before she shook her head, pulling away from him as she glared.

"So you call me a whore? Is that what you really think of me? That I'm stupid enough to just fall into the first asshole's bed that I find?"

Bastian flinched, going to speak when she cut him off, turning to leave the room.

"I may look like my mother, Sebastian but I am nothing like her. I'm not going to make her mistakes. Or my father's or yours. So stop trying to divert the oncoming disasters."

She pushed out of the study, refusing to look up as she tore down the hallway. Barely avoiding Wesker as he moved out of the guest bedroom. He furrowed his brows at her, calling out as she made her way towards the living room. And the coat that held her keys to freedom. Literally. Wesker followed her, speaking again as she picked up Bastian's jacket, tugging her carkeys free of the pocket before she moved to grab her purse from the hook by the door.

"Chaosia? What's going on? I thought I heard a scream-"

She tossed the bag over her shoulder, gathering her hair up and into a sloppy bun at the base of her neck as she gave a sarcastic little bark. She refused to look back at him, reaching for the door as she spoke.

"I'm leaving."

Wesker stepped closer, moving to try and take her purse when she jerked away from him; uncaring that she was more than slightly drunk. Or that she was taking out what had happened between her and her family on him. But what did it matter? He'd pretty much blackmailed her into showing him everything she had on both the SARS and the Arklay V-1 strain. And even though she'd enjoyed spending time with him she wasn't so stupid or naïve to disbelieve Bastian's words. She'd noticed the traits herself, had called him on them while he'd laughed and harassed her. Never once even bothering to try to speak against it.

"Now? I-it's so late Dear Heart. Shouldn't you-"

She glared at him, gripping her keys hard enough for her hand to hurt.

"Do. _**Not**_. Call. Me. _**That!**_ I am most certainly_** not**_ you're Dear Heart, your darling or anything other sentimental pet name you use to crawl in and out of whoever's bed you chose. Seeing as my brother was so kind to inform me that's one of your biggest habits. Along with apparently blackmailing people and manipulating them to get your way."

He shook his head, stepping closer as she wrenched the door open, completely unfazed that she nearly sent the doorknob through the wall. She turned, stalking out of the house and towards her car with one final remark called over her shoulder. And as she sank into the driver's seat she prayed-desperately- that she would just be able to get back to her house and not have to deal with any of this anymore.

_Why in the hell had she ever agree to this?_

* * *

Wesker blinked, nearly flinching as Chaosia stormed from the house; slamming the door behind her. But what she'd said was still bouncing around his head. What in the hell had happened when the two of them had left to go talk? And why did hearing that she was so upset make him feel . . . bad? He watched the door for a few moments before he turned towards the hallway, watching Bastian step into the room. Shaw looked around before he turned to him, eyes accusing and stubborn; though his right cheek and jaw were red and starting to swell.

He straightened, raising a brow as his teammate moved to stand before him; his arms crossed as they stared at one another. Finally the other man sighed in frustration, tossing his hands up.

"Jesus, Wesker. Can you stop glaring? Where is she?"

Wesker crossed his own arms, giving Shaw a deadpan look before he cut his eyes to the door. And he kept his voice neutral and controlled as he gave a rather droll response.

"She left, Shaw. Something about how she refused to stand here and be labeled a whore. Or being played with like all of my other _**conquests**_."

Bastian stilled, his face becoming thoughtful before he sighed again; reaching up and running his hand through his hair. But Wesker didn't care if he looked repentant. He'd just effectively destroyed his best opportunity at gaining an in for the Coroner's office and keeping the G-virus out of the media and the files. And even though Wesker himself had been contemplating just hiking the seven miles to the hidden lab entrance down at the base of Arklay he was still pissed.

"Now tell me, Officer Shaw? How would your sister know about anything that occurs in my private life? Or have such wild and inappropriate ideas about my sexual habits?"

Bastian's eyes came up and locked with his hard, the blue turning almost glacial before he rolled them; giving him a condescending smirk. And the fact that he knew that look and tone of voice only served to infuriate him even further. It was just odd to see on anyone other than himself or Spencer.

"Because I'm not a heartless bastard. Don't get me wrong, Wesker. I like you well enough but in the end I am going to protect my family-my blood. Khail's a scrappy little fuck and can usually take care of himself, bad decisions and all. But Chaosia? She seems to think that since we've all told her time and time again how much like our dickhead of a father she is that she doesn't have a lick of her mother in her. And she's wrong. Dead wrong."

He shifted on his feet, turning to look back over the house as he sighed.

"And her taking off just proves it. My father would've told me to fuck off and come right back out here and done what he wanted. Chaosia got hurt and indignant. And left so she wouldn't have to face it. Because she doesn't wall off the way my Dad does . . . she freaks like her mom. That's why Millennia always kept her cool. She had to or it was impossible to stop her."

He shook his head, pushing to go towards the door; growling in frustration as he went. Wesker looked after him, brow raised.

"And just where are you going **_now_**?"

"To get my sister before she kills herself."

Wesker threw his hands in the air, shaking his head as he moved to follow. He trudged outside, tossing his own coat over his shoulders as he griped to Shaw.

"And to think, if you'd let me stay at home for the holiday I would be staring at my walls or 'emotionlessly bedding one of my conquests'. But who would've ever wanted to miss this?"

Bastian snorted, moving towards the Land Rover determinedly.

"Yeah well congratulations. This is what its like to have families and friends."

"A clusterfuck?"

Bastian nodded, opening the door.

"Yeah pretty much. Why do you think me and Chris are so damn crazy?"

Wesker nodded, rolling his eyes. Never noticing that his phone was no longer in his pocket. It was sitting on the sofa, the faceplate glowing and blinking as the name and number of the caller flashed over the display.

_William Birkin_

_303-597-3613_

* * *

William Birkin turned, rubbing at the hair tickling the back of his neck with a grimace. He needed to get it cut . . . and washed. His hand moved around his neck and up his jaw, causing him to blink. He needed to shave too. He turned, glancing at the date and time display on his computer readouts; shocked to see it was well after 11:00 pm and two days later than he thought it should be.

Meaning that Albert wasn't in Raccoon city anymore. He was up in the mountains with his new little friends from his new assignment. Birkin rolled his eyes, waiting for the voicemail to finish it's blathering. He still didn't understand what Wesker hoped to achieve by going with the group of cretins into the mountains. He just hoped that he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew.

"This is Captain Albert Wesker. Leave a message after the beep. If this is an emergency hang up and dial 911 for emergency response services."

He rolled his eyes, trying not to snort. His friend sounded so damned bored even in the recording that it was almost depressing. What in the hell had Spencer been thinking to put him there within the RPD? Couldn't they see that he was better suited-he was more useful- in the labs that he'd cut his teeth-er fangs in.

"Albert its William. Return this call when you get back from the Mountains with the yokels. Annette needs to know if you'll be attending Sherry's birthday party in a few weeks time."

He sighed, ending the call before he tossed the handset back into the cradle a little harder than he needed to. He knew it was petty-as his oh so loving and adoring wife had already informed him- but he didn't like that Wesker actually seemed to want to go up with the others. Just like was more than a little wary of how often he spoke about this Shaw character.

He crossed his arms, slumping into his seat as he huffed.

_God why did his oldest friend decide that he wanted to start acting human?_

* * *

_okie dokie . . . yeah. no one kill me. And for little sibling scuff who wouldn't clean their brother's clock for calling them a whore? Later._


	8. Authors note

_Hi, this is an author's note and not an update. I keep warring over how this thing is playing out so I'm going to take a bit to go through and overhaul it. I won't take it down until the revised chapters are done but this is warning now. Somethings are going to change . . . and some may not. Any thoughts or suggestions are welcomed. thanks!_

_chaos_


	9. Chapter 9

_Yeah . . . this chapter just wouldn't leave me alone. hope everyone likes it. _

* * *

Albert Wesker sighed as Bastian slowed, pulling in beside the gleaming Chevelle parked near the decrepit concrete wall that passed as Arklay damn. The car was pulled as tight against the guardrail as possible, neatly tucked between the twin white lines as the dark paint glittered in the moonlight. But, as the two of them crawled from the Land Rover and moved closer, it was easy to see while the car was most definitely there the driver was absent. And had been for a while if the cooling hood was any indication.

He turned, looking to Bastian as he tugged his phone from his pocket; pushing the thick orange buttons on the brick Nokia quickly as he glanced around. Muttering to himself as he brought the silver and black brick cell to his ear.

"Damn it chaos. Of all the times for you decide to walk to clear your mind . . . It _**had **_to be tonight."

Wesker leaned against the Chevelle, watching his friend pace as he left his sibling another voicemail. It was odd for him to see someone so honestly concerned for another person. But then again William and Redfield were probably the only other examples of familial normality he'd ever been around. It wasn't like his upbringing had been particularly geared towards the lovey-dovey ideals the others seemed so focused on. Hell he didn't even think that his . . . brother cared if he breathed or died. Given his inability to tolerate the little fuck he surely didn't think he would be this upset if he just took off. They went months-years-without contact, plotting to destroy one other personally and professionally with an occasional halfhearted assassination attempt thrown in for good measure.

Bastian turned to him, his worry growing more obvious the longer the girl refused to answer. He sighed, pushing away from the car to stand before him; pointing down towards the rock rimmed lake beneath them. As much as he hated to admit it this was a perfect opportunity. He could make sure that there was nothing amiss. And that none of William's most recent failures had gotten free.

"Check higher up the trail, Shaw. I'll see if she's down the path. We'll meet back here. Should you locate her before me call."

Bastian nodded, pushing off and towards the hiking trail; nearly running as he made his way further up the embankment. Giving Albert Wesker the first five seconds of peace and quiet he'd had all damn weekend. He sighed, running a hand down his face before looking to the sky thankfully. Now he just had to take his time looking and pray that Bastian found the girl instead of him.

He smirked, moving slowly down the path with his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He should've let Shaw see him with the girl the first damn night!

Then he could've been spared all of this-this _**hassle!**_

* * *

Chaosia drew in a deep pull from the clove cigar she was smoking, her eyes closed as she tried not to scream. She'd gotten about five minutes from the house when she'd realized that she was leaving her own house and letting her brother-and that insane asshat of a man- run her out of it. She snorted, opening her eyes to look at the lake. She wasn't doing that . . . and she wasn't going to let them-him do that.

She might've agreed to let the man see what she was working on for her thesis-and she was big enough to admit that his input had helped her revise enough that she would only be tweaking both for the next month- but she hadn't signed away her damn soul. He would be gone the day after tomorrow and then she wouldn't have to deal with him again. Meaning that she wouldn't have to worry over making anymore deals.

_Or him trying to blackmail her into anything else. _

She exhaled, watching the smoke twist and curl up and into the black night; the twinkle from the stars refracting through the vapor to make certain spots seem luminescent. But even watching the smoke fade into the night she felt her heart twinge again. She might have decided to go back to her home but that sure as hell didn't mean she would be _**nice.**_

Her brother had called her a whore for sitting on the sofa and drinking with a man _**he'd **_invited up here. Someone _**he'd **_droned on and on about how excited _**he**_ was for her to meet. Surely he'd had to at least _**consider**_ that the two of them could actually like one another right? But even as the thought passed her mind she knew it was pointless. Bastian and Khail were both in firm denial about her not being ten anymore . . . and she knew for fact that if either of them ever even guessed to the fact that she'd had more than the one lover she'd-very begrudgingly mind you-admitted to they would probably go on a killing spree.

She sighed, flicking ash into the damp leaves at the base of the rock she'd perched herself upon; trying not to dwell on how badly all of this was fucking with her. She'd just wanted to come up here and see her brothers, to meet this oh-so-wonderful-Wesker and to get her stuff done. Instead she'd ended up playing hostess to Bastian and his friends, meeting Khail's girlfriend and her brother before the whole lot of them had decided to drink themselves stupid. Which had led her to playing maid, recluse and impromptu science teacher before being blackmailed by the first man she'd actually noticed in months.

She growled in frustration, flicking the half-smoked cigar into the lake.

And then from there on to arguing with Khail; to being stranded with Wesker, to actually warming up to the man to somehow pissing Bastian off. To getting called a whore and then freaking out.

She pushed to her feet, stepping off the rock and back towards the path. Only to nearly cry out when she noticed one of the roots of her troubles standing just a few feet from her. She composed herself, rolling her eyes as she pushed past him; jerking away from him when he went to catch her. He sighed, reaching for her again; catching her arm just above her elbow and spinning her to face him.

He hadn't put his sunglasses back on, his blue eyes boring into hers as he raised a brow. And she found herself fighting not to lean into him . . . until he spoke; smirking down at her condescendingly again. God she wanted to wipe that fucking smirk off his face!

"Now, now Dear heart. Is there really a need for all of these dramatics?"

She went to jerk away, wincing as he tightened his grip.

"Oh I'm sorry. I wasn't aware that leaving because I was insulted was considered dramatic. Considering that me lighting out save my brother from broken mandible, maxilla, zygomatic and temporal bones then I think that's me being responsible."

He grinned down at her darkly, his blue eyes flashing in the dim light reflected from the water as tugged her closer. His grip loosened, his thumb smoothing over her skin as he dipped. When their noses nearly touched Chaosia knew she was blushing but she found that she really didn't care. Something about the way he was looking her over, like a kid who'd just found some extra prize with his candy had her wondering what she'd said was so amusing.

Surely if he was here then he'd seen Bastian's face. And she knew-with three doctorates- that he knew enough about the human body to have deduced she'd damn near broken half of her brother's skull. Wesker moved, reaching up and pushing her falling hair out of her face; his smirk falling as he dipped. But right as his lips grazed hers he phone blared to life, the cumbersome cellphone vibrating in her hands.

She jumped, looking down to the phone; relieved and aggravated to see Bastian's number as she hit answer. Apparently she'd finally found a cop when she needed one. Too bad she needed him right beside her or as soon as she was off the phone she was liable to forget she didn't need to be alone with this man.

"_Chaosia! Where are you?"_

"Down at the lake. I needed to breathe, Bastian. Or something was going to die. Where are you?"

"_Up at the cars. Did you find Wesker? He's supposed to be down that way-"_

"Yeah, he's here. Look we'll meet you up there. Just-"

"_I'm sorry, Chaos. I shouldn't have said anything. I just-I love you. I don't want you to get hurt. Just come back okay? I promise not to be an ass. I won't say anything else. Deal?"_

She nodded, cutting her eyes back to Wesker. He was looking at something just off in the trees, his locked on whatever with intensity as he stilled. She raised a brow, her voice lowering as she heard a twig snap just in the shadows. Wesker tensed, his eyes narrowing as his hand slid to his belt. But when she saw his lip twitch down she knew that he'd just realized he wasn't armed.

"Deal, big brother. Look let us get on back up there okay? I love you."

"_Love you too, spazoid. Hurry. This place is getting creepy."_

She ended the call, slowly stepping to Wesker; her hand sliding down his arm to rest on his hand. His muscles were clenched, taught as he continued to glare into the woods. But as she moved to speak she saw the shadows shift; her heart freezing in her chest. Shit. There was something out there. And from the rustling it was getting closer.

She pressed herself against his back, stretching to whisper to him; her lips brushing the shell of his ear. He inclined his head just enough to listen, his eyes still locked on the shadow in the woods. Correction: the rustling, snapping growling shadow in the woods.

"Please tell me you're armed, Captain."

* * *

Wesker shook his head minutely, his hand moving back to rest against her hip; keeping her close as they both took a step back. He had been fortunate enough to not see or hear anything that would hint to the Arklay security needing to be updated-again-while he'd searched. But now that he'd stumbled upon the damned girl he just had to find something hostile.

And of course he wasn't even properly armed to deal with a tick, let alone something that could potentially be infected with William's 'baby'.

The shadow started to take shape as it edged closer, a feral gurgled growl erupting from the dark backdrop of the trees as Chaosia jumped behind him. She gripped his arm, pressing herself against his back as she gasped. He almost snorted, waiting for the aggravation and contempt at her start to set in before he frowned. She wasn't breaking down into hysterics and she wasn't clinging to him, trying to climb him like a damned tree. She was staying perfectly still and keeping a barrier-him-between herself and perceived threat.

He blinked, impressed and insulted all at once.

He hated to be the hero but it was strangely offsetting that he wasn't going to be able to play it now. He'd already played mentor and mediator, had played manipulator . . . why did she not need this too?

"Unfortunately not, Dear Heart. You are not by chance?"

She shook her head, moving with him as they backed just a bit closer to the beaten path. Her hand squeezed his as the thing stepped just a bit into the moonlight, revealing a foaming snapping maul and razor sharp teeth. It appeared to be some sort of canine-almost like a Doberman. But what he noticed were the open rotting sores all over what he could see of its skin, like its hide was literally slothing off with every move it made.

He cursed to himself, making a mental note to yell at William as soon as he was away from the Shaws. Seriously Umbrella was going to have to update their security or they were going to give themselves away. He shook his head, glancing back at Chaosia as she spoke again. And he knew he would have to remember to chastise her for her badly timed humor.

"I guess I don't have to outrun the wolf . . . just you right?"

He wanted to turn and glare at her as she gave a nervous little chuckle, her free hand coming up to fist in the back of his shirt. The Cerberus moved forward, its dead eyes locked on them as Chaosia grip became tighter.

"How fast can you **_run_**, Albert?"

He looked at the Cerberus then to the lake, an idea forming in his head as he started weighing his options. He needed to dispatch the creature before it infected anything else. Or worse yet made it to a civilized area. But he couldn't do so with Chaosia here. Too many unanswerable questions and far too much stimuli for her already very active brain. It would only take a few small details for her to link this mutation to the strain she was already researching.

"Fast enough, Dear Heart."

The dog moved, leaping as he pushed her towards the path; hissing through clenched teeth as he leapt towards the water. The Cerberus gave chase, moving for him as Chaosia moved towards the car.

_**"Go!"**_

He moved, the dog literally snapping at his heels as he turned; grabbing one of the largest rocks he could. It was nowhere near the caliber of his Beretta or the Samurai Edge but desperate times called for improvising. Hopefully he would actually be able to handle this without being bitten.

_Because the antivirus burned like hellfire._

* * *

Chaosia stood over Wesker, dabbing the cut in the bridge of his nose with a peroxide soaked cotton swab; biting her lip as she tried not giggle at his disgruntled appearance. But Bastian couldn't blame her; his boss looked nowhere near his normal composed self. And his little sister was sadistic enough that she was relishing the thought that she might get to rub it in.

He watched as she dabbed the oozing cut on Wesker's face, her eyes flashing sympathetically as Albert hissed. Before she reached out and caught his face; keeping him still as she proceeded to clean the wound. And pressed down a little harder than she needed to if the blond captain's grumbling and bitching was anything to judge by.

"Damnation woman. Is it necessary to take away the remaining superficial layer of epidermis? Or do you delight in torturing others?"

Bastian rolled his eyes, going to answer when Chaosia cut him off; using a pair of tweezers to pluck a shard of rock from the side of Wesker's nose before she continued dabbing and prodding the area with swabs.

"I only enjoy torturing **you**, _**Doctor Wesker**_. Something you should already know. But then again I'm beginning to question your intelligence."

Wesker raised a brow, looking up at her incredulously as she nodded; dipping to push his now very mussed hair out of his dirt covered face. Wesker however didn't seem to think she was joking, his demeanor becoming insulted and abrasive almost immediately as Chaos grinned.

"And why in the hell is _**that?**_"

"You decided to take on a wolf all by yourself with nothing more than a rock. That's not something a sane person even momentarily **contemplates**. Much less _**attempts**_."

His captain blinked, brows furrowed as Chaosia turned to wash her hands before he turned to him. And Bastian had to leave the room before he got himself in even more trouble. Chaos had-as soon as he'd helped get Wesker inside-told him that she would forget his idiot moment. Now all he had to do was convince Wesker to agree to the terms he wanted and then maybe they could spend the next day in the mountains in peace. Without drunken escapades, fights, arguments, wrecks, bloodshed or rabid wolves.

_Or him having to worry about his boss fucking his sister._

That wasn't too much to ask . . . _**right?**_

* * *

Chaosia waited until Bastian was out of the room before she turned back to Wesker, wiping her hands on the clean dishtowel as she stepped back to him. He was-for all intents and purposes- pouting, his arms crossed and his eyes closed. His clothes were covered in debris and dirt, tiny twigs and leaves stuck to his shirt and in his hair while his cheek was bruising and the bridge of his nose looked painfully swollen.

She sighed, dipping to wipe the dirt from his cheek with the towel; giving him a sympathetic grin as he cracked an eye at her. She nodded as he snorted, rolling both eyes before he glared at her.

"I suppose you're enjoying this aren't you Dear Heart. For whatever _imaginary_ grievance I've committed against you-"

She didn't give him the chance to finish, softly pressing her lips to his. She held the contact for a few brief moments before easing back, tracing his cheek tenderly. He blinked, looking to her in seeming awe as she gave him a bashful grin. Unable to believe that the easiest way to shut him up was actually one of the most . . . pleasant.

"Thank you, Captain."

He blinked again, brows furrowed as he looked her over.

"For what?"

She blushed, her cheeks feeling almost on fire as she ducked her eyes. And when she looked back up at him through her lashes she suddenly felt stupid. But she continued anyway, her voice soft.

"For saving me . . ."

Comprehension dawned as he nodded, a wry self-satisfied grin spreading over his lips. But she found she didn't entirely mind this one. He'd taken on a wolf with a rock and while oh so very Roman she knew it hadn't been easy. She guessed he deserved his moment of gloating. But when she went to pull away he surged forward, catching her face in his hand as his lips slashed against hers. And the savage brutal kiss he gave her left her breathless.

She gasped, leaning into the kiss before she could really stop herself. God what in the hell was wrong with her? He pulled away, still keeping her close as she tried to ease back. And she made the conscious decision to keep with her resolution from the dam. She just needed to get out of this damn room . . . or she was going to end up in a world of trouble.

* * *

Wesker pulled away, resting his forehead against Chaosia's as he kept her close; ignoring the way she tried to pull back. He had no idea why but knowing that she wasn't automatically going to act on the physical attraction she had for him was almost like a rush in itself. She was something new for him to conquer, to break and remold for his uses and build to his image. But when they heard Bastian move back towards the room he let her pull back; knowing that all of his plans would have to wait.

_He had **plenty** of time after all._

Chaosia stepped away, looking to him like he was crazy before she turned on her heel and stalked towards the living room. Muttering under her breath at him even as she passed her brother. He grinned to himself, watching Bastian shake his head before he turned. But when he saw Bastian's face he knew that the man was here to talk to him seriously.

He sighed, straightening as Bastian sank onto the counter; shaking his head as he crossed his arms. After a few long moments Bastian reached up, running a hand through his hair before he spoke. And Wesker had to admit, the man had balls.

"You need to stay the hell away from my sister."

He raised a brow, crossing his arms as he leaned back; mirroring Shaw's posture as he gave him a deadpan look.

"And here I thought you wanted me to _meet_ her . . . what changed that _sentiment?_"

Bastian glared, his eyes becoming chips of hard blue ice as his voice became deathly still.

"I wanted you to meet someone outside of STARS, to maybe make a friend. Not try and get my baby sister in bed."

Wesker raised a brow, trying not to be insulted at the sentiment behind his words. So he was good enough to come and meet the girl but not to bed her? To play any sort of role in her life other than an occasional acquaintance? He doubted Bastian or Mikhail even knew the propensity their sister held, the sheer untapped ability to garner power and information.

She was a tool, raw and unrefined yes, put a tool nonetheless. And Bastian wasn't going to keep him from using her. Not when she would be oh so beneficial to his plans. Just like Bastian and the rest of STARS if he could ever figure out how to use them.

"And what pray tell if she _**wants **_to grace my bed? Of her own free will. What then? Am I to deny her and myself of the possibility just to sate your own . . . _**insecurities?**_"

Bastian glared at him before he seemed to mellow, his shoulders relaxing as he shrugged. And Albert Wesker became concerned. Bastian was heartless when he wanted to be. And he seemed far too at ease to have suddenly made peace with this.

"You know what, Wesker you're right. If my sister wants anything to do with you-and trust me that's going to be a really big if after everything before- then you have my blessings."

Wesker raised a brow before going to nod, only to nearly choke on his tongue as Bastian continued. He couldn't be serious? Intentional monogamy? _**Him?**_

"But _**only**_ if she's the only person you're seeing. I know you Albert. I've seen you with one woman one day and another next, all the while knowing that you're seeing both. And I get it. You're handsome, smart and powerful. And you don't _**want **_that kind of relationship. But I'm telling you now-you pursue Chaos and it had better be for something serious. Because if I find out differently-that she isn't happy even for a second then I'll shoot you myself."

Wesker raised a brow before nodding, spotting the loophole almost instantly. So long as Chaosia was content he would be fine, able to keep up the ruse for his friend. Not that he intended to push any relationship he formed with her to that level . . . but if it came to that then he knew what he needed to do.

"If it ever comes to that I _**swear**_ to treat her as expected. And to ensure her happiness."

Bastian nodded, grinning.

"That's all I ask, man. Now c'mon. We're going to have a nice, big drink. I think you earned it."

* * *

_so yeah . . . i'm crazy_


	10. Chapter 10

_Alright this one is a little longer-at least for this story-and it gets a bit odd in spots. I just want to point out yes i know in spots people may seem a little ooc but there is a good bit of alcohol (and ego) involved so just give it a chance. it all makes sense in the end. Thanks for all of the faves, alerts, reviews and pms. And yes to answer a question-the Shaw family (or at least Chaos and Bastian) do drink. A lot. _

* * *

**Egotism**

The rest of the night flew by for Chaosia, the sun rising on their next day at the cabin seeming to come too fast and too slow all at once. But as she sat on her porch, drinking the steaming cup of coffee-with more than a few shots of rum- as she watched the sun crest over the Arklay range she couldn't have been more thankful. In a few hours Bastian and Wesker would be up; Mikhail and the others would be back some time later tonight. And after they ate breakfast together tomorrow they would all be on their way back to Raccoon.

Meaning she would finally be able to put some distance between herself and the very confusing Albert Wesker.

She rolled her eyes, settling deeper into her seat as she tried to block the events of the past few days. The man's moods bounced around more than a five year old on a pogo-stick and she was literally getting whiplash trying to keep up with him. One second he was all fine and friendly then the next he was snarky and sarcastic. And that was just his attitude! That's not even considering the damned blackmail attempt-God she was so stupid for every fucking agreeing to that to begin with!- or said idiot's stupid rescue attempt.

_Or the kiss . . ._

She shook herself, glancing over as the patio door opened. A second later Bastian pushed out, a cup of coffee in hand as he made his way to sink into the chair beside her. They sat together in silence, watching the sun rise higher over the mountain range as they drank. After a while her brother moved, sitting his cup aside before he shifted closer to the edge of his seat. He patted the seat beside him, Chaos never even second guessing herself as she moved to sit with him.

She curled around him, resting her head on his shoulder as he got her hand; lacing their fingers together as they watched the light glitter off of the lake. And for the first time all weekend it was finally the way she wanted. She was getting to spend time with her brother, getting to actually just be with her family. She felt him move beneath her, his lips brushing her curls before his free hand tugged a strand.

"_**You **_need a haircut, little sister."

She rolled her eyes, looking up to him before she snorted; settling against him as she closed her eyes.

"So do _**you**_, big brother."

He shrugged, his fingers pushing through her hair as they sat together. Even with everything she'd been through over the weekend she was content. She'd been through a weird ride to get it but she was finally with her family. And nothing could make her regret it.

_Not even Albert Wesker._

* * *

Wesker stepped into the kitchen, moving straight through to the coffee pot almost like a zombie. Somehow he'd managed to spend most of the night searching for his phone, trying not to panic once he'd noticed its disappearance. If it was beside the dam then that was fine. The elements would destroy it. But if it was here-or in Bastian's car- then he _**had **_to locate it. There were far too many numbers and contacts within the memory for either of the Shaws to find it.

Finally- after begrudgingly enlisting the siblings' help- he'd ended up tearing the living room apart. While Chaosia dialed the number over and over. An experience that had both worked in his favor and nearly caused him to strangle the laughing, teasing girl. He'd set the damn thing to vibrate so every time she would call they only had a few precious moments to narrow down their search area. And after almost an hour he'd finally gotten frustrated. He'd growled and glared around the room while Bastian mirrored his aggravation; both more than slightly upset that they- two highly trained and supremely intelligent officers- could not seem to locate a simple electronic device. Chaosia had rolled her eyes and handed him her phone; instructing him to dial the number again as she moved closer to the couch. He and Bastian had watched-dumbfounded- as the girl waltzed right to his cellphone; lodged in the back of the sofa they'd already looked through four times. He'd begrudgingly thanked the girl-trying hard to ignore her overly smug grin- and stepped outside to return William's call.

He'd paced the porch as the siblings had cooked, ranting and raving at Birkin as he'd cackled away like mad. He'd thought the lapse in Arklay security was hilarious; voicing several times that he was content to be mainly in Raccoon now that he'd finally solidified his place as Head Researcher. Before going right back to guffawing over the method he'd had to use to eliminate the Cerberus he and the girl had happened upon.

Wesker rolled his eyes, pouring himself a large cup as he grumbled.

Apparently Chaosia and Bastian weren't the only ones who thought him having to take down an infected canine-though they were still under the impression it was a wolf-with nothing more than his bare hands was worth 'busting a gut over'. He rolled his eyes again, trying not to snort as he took a long pull from the coffee cup; debating on adding some of the rum he spied further down the counter. He seriously needed to reconsider just how good of a friend William was . . . because he knew for fact the idiot was still probably laughing so hard he was crying.

So he'd been his closet colleague for years and they'd done everything from researching to assassinating together. The idiot thought him having to nearly be torn limb from limb-okay not literally but he'd had a stressful weekend, he was allowed some degree of dramatics- by one of the damned experiments they couldn't seem to keep locked in was hilarious. Something that had never happened when he'd been able to run the fucking security the way it needed to be.

He turned, seeing the patio doors open before he moved outside. Only to stop at what he saw. Bastian was in the larger armchair, Chaosia in his lap. And the two were watching the lake together so peacefully he was hesitant to disturb them. After their fight the two had seemingly made peace, joking and laughing like none of the other drama had occurred. Even when she'd been harassing them Bastian had been fine, teasing her back as he'd threatened to leave her precious sanctuary in shambles.

Was this how people-how families were?

He knew for fact that if anyone had ever even dared question or insult him the way that Bastian had his sister he would've shot them . . . or volunteered them for a prime spot in the most gruesome experiment he could find. He knew he wouldn't be capable of this level of forgiveness. Not without a pound of flesh and a few pints of blood at least.

Chaosia shifted, breaking him away from his thoughts as she curled a bit tighter; her head resting on Bastian's shoulder as she sighed. Her voice carried to him, soft and lilting; almost airy as she spoke.

"Do we have to go back? I mean can't we just quit school and work and just stay?"

Bastian chuckled, hugging her tighter. And even though Wesker could hear the reprimand in his tone he could also hear just the barest hint of wistfulness. Like he had actually thought about-even if for just a moment.

"Now Chaos. You know we can't do that. Besides-"

He took a drink from his own cup before continuing, his voice taking on a more playful tone. And Wesker felt torn between the urge to roll his eyes and to be slightly offended. He knew that he and the girl hadn't gotten to a great start-hell he was going to have to work pretty fucking hard just to ensure he would be able to visit the morgue without becoming a permanent resident- but he hadn't thought she was this . . . aggravated with him.

"If we stay, so does Albert. We brought him up remember?"

Chaosia gave a delicate snort, shaking her head as she settled against her brother.

"Damn. Back to Raccoon tomorrow then."

Bastian laughed, coming to his defense.

"Aw c'mon sis. He isn't that bad. He's just well-Albert. That's the only way to describe him."

Chaosia glanced up, her light eyes skeptical as she took in her sibling. And Wesker smirked despite himself. She was such a paranoid little thing . . . but it served her well. She was probably a superb pathologist.

"I thought you wanted me to stay away from him. Because I distinctly remember being told all about his womanizing ways and how I didn't need that. What changed overnight?"

Bastian blushed, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Well we-uh talked and-"

"_**Talked?"**_

Bastian's blush darkened, Wesker rolling his eyes as he muttered to his sister.

"Yeah. I uh-well . . . Damn it. We talked okay? The guy's my friend Chaos. I wouldn't mind if you went to lunch with him or something but the two of you would have to change- a lot- to make a relationship work. I don't want to see you do anything you don't want to do. Besides, last time we talked you didn't have time to breathe let alone date. What does it matter?"

She glared, leaning back to stare at him as she crossed her arms.

"It matters Bastian because I'm fucking twenty six years old. And I do date. I just don't tell you and I sure as hell never tell Khail. I mean I'm not some kid that needs her big brothers to defend her every five seconds. Or to vote on who I can and can't fuck."

She shrugged, turning to look to the lake as she huffed; pointedly ignoring the hateful look Bastian leveled on her. After a few seconds she cut her eyes back to her brother, a bashful grin spread over her lips as she chuckled.

"You know, if I ever find the time."

Bastian snorted, pushing her out of his lap and back towards her own chair; grumbling.

"Don't even remind me that you found time to begin with. I ever get my hands on that idiot and I'll-"

"Do absolutely _**nothing**_, Sebastian. I didn't say _**anything **_when **you** were shacked up with that _**tramp**_ in Atlanta so you can't say shit about me seeing _**him**_. Got it?"

Bastian glared, grabbing his cup as Chaos took up residence in the other chair.

"I'm your brother. I've raised you. I can say whatever I want. _**Especially**_ about _**him**_ . . . I just don't because I don't want a repeat of last night. Hell I feel sorry for whoever you finally end up with. Poor bastard's gonna end up battered and abused."

Chaosia glared, her teeth ground as she practically growled at her brother.

"Bastian, I'm _**warning**_ you."

But Shaw continued, acting oblivious to her bristling demeanor and stiff shoulders.

"I swear I'm not going to put in a word if you go down for assault and domestic abuse-_**HEY!**_"

Chaosia threw the pillow from her chair at him, squawking as it caught it dead in the side of the head. Bastian glared, picking it up and tossing it back at her; the two quickly dissolving into childish foolishness as they bickered and argued between tossing the pillows. And Wesker felt odd watching them, like an outsider glancing at something private; something precious just in their family.

Until one of the pillows-hurled by Chaosia- sailed past Bastian and struck him; sending his coffee down the front of his pants and shirt. It was nowhere near as hot, meaning he'd stood and watched them for a while but it still startled him. Causing him to drop the cup; the thick porcelain cracking as both of the siblings turned to him. Bastian looked torn between laughing and running-knowing him he was bound to do both eventually- but Chaosia looked truly caught.

_Like a child with their hand in the cookie jar._

She pushed to her feet, moving towards him as she covered her mouth. A few seconds later she turned to Bastian, her eyes cutting back to him as she bit her lip.

"I am _**so**_ sorry-"

Bastian snickered, his shoulders starting to shake as Chaosia looked him over. She turned back, glaring at her brother as she hissed. Bastian didn't even argue, pushing up and past them as he continued to laugh. Leaving Albert Wesker alone with the very irate woman who'd just doused him with coffee and struck him with a pillow. God tomorrow needed to come or his sanity wasn't going to survive.

And William Birkin could never know about this incident. Ever.

"Goddammit Bastian! Get up and get something to help clean this up with. Its your fault anyway!"

* * *

Chaosia sighed as Bastian fled the scene cackling, bending to pick up the shattered cup as Wesker glared down at his now soaked clothes. She glanced up at him through her lashes, blushing as she realized she had made an even bigger idiot out of herself by yelling and carrying on. God she just couldn't seem to act like a normal person around this man.

She looked back to the pieces, hissing as a thin sliver of porcelain pierced her skin; sliding through the pads of her index and middle fingers like they were warm butter. She dropped the cup as she pushed to her feet, causing the pieces to shatter even further as she cursed and held her now gushing fingers. Why did it always seem that the smallest cuts hurt the worst? And that they poured buckets of blood?

Long, thick fingers closed around her own before a warm hand gently clasped around her wrist. She looked up, shocked to see Wesker looking down to her hand; gently prying her fingers open so he could inspect the damage. He sighed, shaking his head before tugging her towards the kitchen; both of them stepping carefully over the broken cup as he led her to the sink. He reached out, setting the water to lukewarm as he pulled her hand beneath the stream. Letting her see that the fingers slowly working over her own-gently pushing the tiny shards of porcelain from beneath her skin-were easily twice the diameter of her own. Actually his hand dwarfed her own, his other hand able to wrap around her wrist; his fingers overlapping.

God she'd never realized just how much bigger than her he actually was . . . but then again both of her brothers were well over six foot. Most tall people just seemed normal to her by comparison.

"How did you fair in your writing? You were not far from finishing before we left last night . . ."

Chaosia started, looking up at him in shock before she shook herself. She shrugged, her eyes falling back to her hand in his as the water started to run clear instead of pink. And though her fingers were still aching she knew it wasn't as bad as it felt.

"I finished last night after you and Bastian went to bed. Of course I'll probably revise it at least twice more but for the rest of the weekend I'm going to leave the viral pathology alone. Besides Bastian wanted to reread my forensic psychology . . . To make sure everything's correct."

He nodded his eyes still on her hand as he replied. But Chaosia knew his attention was solely on her even though his eyes weren't. she fought a shiver as he moved, turning the water from warm to cool before turning it off completely.

"I doubt he'll find anything to contest. When do you finish?"

She blinked, the topic perplexing but she answered regardless. She was _**sure **_she'd told him the first night that she only had a few months to go . . . hadn't she? Surely she hadn't been that sloshed . . . She shook herself, making a mental note to cut back on her drinking. If her memory was being affected then she needed to slow down. Or she was going to become an alcoholic far faster than her brothers feared.

"A few months. Though I'm debating on when I get back to Raccoon asking if I can submit my theses early."

He raised a brow, cutting his eyes to her. She blushed again, shrugging as she rolled her eyes. She knew it wasn't something people normally did but the sooner she could get the academic board to accept her theses the faster she could take the position she'd been offered. It was rare for an essentially 'fresh' graduate to be given such an opportunity outright. And though she knew-hoped and prayed- she wouldn't be in Raccoon forever she wasn't moving any time soon. Besides she was already doing the work why not get the pay?

"That is . . . a risky endeavor, Dear heart. Surely you understand that if you submit early then you will be weighed with a stricter bias and far more scrutiny. Are you sure you would not rather wait? A few months is not too long to pass."

She bit her lip before shaking her head. If there was one thing she knew about Cynthia Connors it was the woman wouldn't keep the position open long. And while she was definitely the Chief Medical Examiner's first pick if she drug her feet Connors would give the position away. Better to seize this now instead of chancing the wait.

"I'm practically finished, Captain. With everything you suggested-and the few changes Bastian will undoubtedly demand- the longer I wait the more chance I'll change something for the worst. Besides . . ."

She trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable with explaining her reasons. He'd been so keen on her virus before that she was almost afraid to tell him she would be the secondary pathologist and the back-up Medical Examiner for Raccoon City. She knew it was stupid but her gut told her not to say anything. Even as her mouth moved on its own and did the exact opposite of what she wanted.

"Besides?"

"I-Dr. Connors offered me a permanent position at the Coroner's Office. One of the other pathologists just up and quit without any notice. I know Bastian is going to be in Raccoon City for a while-and Khail isn't going to be too far away. It wouldn't hurt to take the permanent position for now."

He blinked, before nodding; his lips tugging into a smirk that made her heart flip and butterflies bubble in her stomach. Five heartbeats before her skin wanted to crawl. God how could someone look so damned sinfully attractive and evil at the same time?

"Well then I can understand the rush. Have you told Bastian about the job offer?"

She shook her head, accepting the clean dishrag he handed her as he turned to move towards the first aid kit above the fridge. She clenched her fingers around the cloth, watching the white and blue gingham stain red. He moved back to her, motioning to her hand as he opened the kit; pulling out the antiseptic and gauze wrap. She raised a brow, looking to him skeptically.

"No . . . I want it to be a surprise. He'll freak if I tell him before I take it. What do you think you're doing?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

She leaned further against the counter, her eyes narrowing as he sighed and stepped towards her. She didn't care how nice he was trying to be, every single time he touched her someone always saw them. And then she got yelled at and insulted before she slugged something. She wasn't dealing with today.

"I don't know what you think you're doing but I'm telling you what you're not."

He gave her a pointed look, motioning for her hand as she pulled it closer against her.

"Honestly Dear heart? You're bleeding everywhere-"

"It isn't that bad. Small capillaries in the fingertips make for a lot of blood for a small wound. You're a doctor, you should know that."

He kept his hand out, his look darkening the same way it had on the porch as his voice deepened.

"_**Chaosia.**_ Your hand."

She gulped, slowly extending her hand. He sighed, reaching out and grabbing her wrist; tugging her to him. He took the rag, tossing it into the sink before he set to disinfecting the wounds. Neither spoke as he swabbed the cuts or when he spread the antibiotic ointment over her skin. Or when he placed the thick surgical gauze over the wound, wrapping her fingers and palm tight enough to staunch the blood flow.

She glanced up at him through her lashes, biting her bottom lip as he turned her now bandaged hand over in his own; neatly taping the end. He examined his handiwork before nodding, never looking up to her as he drawled.

"There . . . that wasn't so terrible now was it?"

She rolled her eyes before shrugging, enjoying the way his mouth tugged down into an irritated frown before she caught herself. Aggravating this man was her brother's job not hers. Even if it was fun. She pulled her hand from his, her fingers dragging across his palm just as Bastian stepped into the kitchen; dustpan and broom in hand as he bitched. But she was thankful for the distraction, even if he was being an ass.

"Damn it Chaos. For someone who's so fucking organized you can sure as hell pick odd places for shit. Who puts a broom and dustpan in a linen closet?"

* * *

Wesker moved outside with Chaosia and Bastian, settling into the open chair as the siblings returned to their former spot in the largest seat. Chaosia was tiny in comparison to her siblings but it was far too easy to tell who actually ran things when they were together. At least with Bastian. He sighed, shaking his head as he drank his now reheated coffee; blinking as the rum Bastian had added overpowered the strong brew.

Chaosia raised a brow, obviously catching his look before she turned back and leveled an accusing glare on her eldest brother. The Ranger however just grinned lazily, shrugging as he drank his own coffee. Which just made the girl's eyes narrow even more.

"how much rum did you put in these Sebastian?"

He shrugged again, raising his cup to her in a faux toast with a wide grin; his voice smooth and saccharine all at once. Which just seemed to irritate the girl even further.

"Enough to make dealing with your wonderful morning personality easier, oh chaotic one."

She glared, her voice just as saccharine as her brothers-though the hardening edge was easy to detect. God no wonder they spent so much time arguing-they were too damned much alike to do anything but.

"You've been dealing with my morning personality just fine for the weekend, asshat."

He turned, his eyes locking on Wesker as he winked; Chaosia bristling before her cheeks flushed bright red.

"Yeah but you haven't really been out before you've been awake a few hours. Even when the others were here you'd been up for a while-and you still almost scared Claire to death on the porch. Which by the way you can't continue to do. Chris is gonna give Khail enough hell, I don't want to have to explain your insults or smooth anymore ruffled feathers."

She rolled her eyes, muttering something that made Wesker choke on his next drink of coffee-flavored-rum; him actually sputtering as he tried to catch his breath.

"Yeah well don't hold your breathe. _He's_ fucking her, not _me_. **_I'm_** smart enough not to bring _**my**_ girlfriends home to the family."

Wesker watch as Bastian glared, leveling a hard look on her as she shrugged; continuing her argument as they both seemed intent to ignore the fact he was sitting there. Dear God why had she phrased it like that? And why did Bastian seem more upset that she'd said it then the implication behind her words?

"Chaosia I'm serious. I just want peace. And I know that all of this has been a hassle-that none of this has gone according to the plan we set but still. Claire isn't so bad-"

"I don't mind the kid, Bastian. But she's a kid. Super smart or not . . . and Khail needs to think with his head instead of his dick."

Bastian went to speak when she stopped him, continuing on.

"_**BUT**_ I won't be hateful, alright? And I'm not the one who scared her. Talk to him."

Wesker rolled his eyes before he glared at her, trying to figure a way around the trouble she was trying to land him in. Only to start when her next words exonerated him, making the situation seem far more innocent than they both knew it had been. And still neglecting to mention the damned viral strain that had started most of this angst and anxiety between them. God why hadn't he just left things the way they had been the first night? And just let her be intrigued but somewhat cordial?

"Though honestly he wasn't any worse than I was. She seemed uncomfortable with the fact that I wasn't as _**social**_ as she and Officer Valentine are. I can't do much more than try, Bastian."

Wesker blinked, impressed as Bastian seemed to mellow; sagging against the chair with a huff. She'd played that far too well to have never manipulated him before . . . And Bastian seemed completely unaware. Oh he'd been right, Ada could definitely learn a thing or two from this one. Though from the way she smirked and flicked her brother he doubted that she was even aware of what she'd done.

She cut her gaze back to him, her eyes searching his before she nodded. And as he nodded back to her, she gave him a grin; right before her gaze became pointed. She'd kept her word-had protected his interests as well as her own. And now she expected him to do the same.

"Fine, little sister. I get it. You'll do your best. Just don't forget that Chris is my friend-and that no matter how badly all of this goes Claire is his sister just like you're mine."

She nodded, rolling her eyes as she reached out and stole his cup; grimacing at the taste before she spoke again.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't terrify the kid even if Khail's being stupid. Message received. Jesus-tap-dancing-Christ Bastian is there any coffee in this at all?"

He shrugged, stealing it back from her.

"Just for color, Chaos. Remember the others are gonna be back tonight. I'm gonna need it."

She shook her head, turning to Wesker. Who just smirked and shrugged, offering his own insight as they settled into the now comfortable atmosphere. It was obvious that they were all trying to relax as much as they could before the rest came traipsing back through.

"God and I'm the alcoholic? Does he drink like this all the time in Raccoon when I'm not around?"

"Mostly when he's with Redfield and Speyer . . . though I have fallen victim to their idiocy myself. You aren't going to allow him to mix shots tonight are you?"

"Oh Lord no! I can't handle anymore of those stupid alchemy shots he loves to get people with-"

"HEY! Christ Captain who's side are you on?"

* * *

Chris Redfield had never been so thankful to see anything in his life as he was when the Shaw lake house come into view. He sighed, pulling in beside Bastian's Landrover and the pristine Chevelle before putting the car in park. Claire and Khail were out of the car, heading towards the house with Forest following closely; the other STARS member lugging both his and Jill's shower bags while Valentine trudged up the steps like she was following a death march. Chris watched them all proceed into the house before he groaned. Letting his head sag to the steering wheel, he closed his eyes; muttering a prayer as he felt himself start to relax.

"Thank you God for letting me survive this . . . now just let me get them back to Raccoon without committing murder and I won't ask for anything until Claire gets married. I swear."

He sighed, just reveling in the quiet for a few long moments until a tap at the window made him jump. He turned, honestly surprised to see Chaosia standing beside his Jeep. With a steaming white coffee mug in hand. He took the keys from the ignition and stuck them in his pocket, slowly opening the door enough for the girl to step close. She offered him the mug like it was the answer to all of life's problems . . . and he couldn't stop himself from taking it; nodding to her with a tired smile.

She nodded, giving him a small smirk before she motioned her head towards the house; her eyes sympathizing with him even if her words didn't. Apparently it hadn't been a picnic here either. Though he honestly doubted she'd contemplated burying anyone in the woods.

"I figured you would need this right about now. Just drink it slowly."

He raised a brow but took a careful sip, blinking at the strong taste of rum that flooded his mouth. He swallowed forcefully, nodding to her as he chuckled weakly.

"Damnation kid. That's strong . . . it hasn't been _**that**_ bad here has it?"

She rolled her eyes before cutting them back to the house, glaring as Bastian and Wesker pushed outside and off of the porch. Both moving towards the Jeep in quick determined strides. She shook her head as he raised a brow, grumbling as she crossed her arms and huffed. Her curls were pulled into a low ponytail at the side of her neck; the almost white ringlets falling over her left breast as she rolled her eyes. And while she wasn't dressed too differently from how she had been before Chris had to admit she wasn't too bad to look at.

Hell if he weren't steadily trying to get Jill to warm to him-to want to be something other than coworkers and partners then he would be having the same awkward conversation with Bastian that Khail had attempted with him. Though from the way Wesker-who was sans sunglasses oddly enough-was looking between them he might have some competition.

Her voice brought his eyes back to her as she shook her head; her eyes tracking the others movement.

"Oh it's been a _joyous_ time here, Officer Redfield. Almost as much fun as a lobotomy . . . but before we're interrupted I wanted to apologize-for before? If I made you or your sister uncomfortable it was not my intention. I'm just-I'm not so good with people when they're actually breathing you know?"

Chris blinked before he nodded, laughing as she relaxed. He extended his hand to her, giving her the warmest smile he could muster; thankful that she took it and shook; firmly.

"Its all good, Ms. Shaw. I know I wasn't exactly in the best of moods either. So we'll call it even . . . besides I know for fact that I made your brother's life hell on purpose. At least you're big enough to apologize about Claire. Who was more uncomfortable about Captain Wesker than you just to let you know. She's kind of shy at first . . . and she's told me she doesn't think he likes her very much every time she comes to the precinct."

He chuckled, keeping her hand in his as he leaned closer; stage whispering as the other two got closer.

"I keep trying to tell her its just how he is but she wants everyone to like her, you know?"

She laughed good naturedly, winking as she agreed.

"Oh trust me; I've been enlightened to how odd your Captain is. Just like I know how much of an ass both of my brothers can be when they aren't trying to act human. So don't worry about Khail. I'm sure he deserved every bit of whatever happened if not more. We're going to eat a little later but I figured I'd offer for you to use my shower. I imagine the lake didn't make for a good bathtub."

He grinned, thankful for the offer.

"I would love that, ma'am. But only if you'll call me Chris."

She raised a brow before nodding; her voice warmer than he'd ever heard it as she laid down her own condition.

"I believe I can manage that, Chris. So long as you can handle calling me Chaosia."

Chris nodded, straightening as Wesker and Bastian stepped around the front of the car; letting the girl's hand slip from his as she turned and very pointedly goaded her brother.

"See? I can be nice when I put my mind to it. Hell I can be downright pleasant."

Bastian rolled his eyes, turning to Chris with a tired smile. And when he reached out and patted his shoulder Chris felt a million times better. At least he wasn't mad about anything that had happened. He turned, nodding to Wesker as the blonde captain dipped his chin; but something in his words made him almost feel like he was in trouble. God he hated being in trouble . . . especially when Wesker was the one who was going to be reprimanding him.

"Redfield. No further dramatics and mechanical issues arose I trust?"

He nodded, chuckling sheepishly before turning to Chaosia; thankful when she smiled and pushed him towards the house.

"Ready, Chris?"

"Yes ma-am, Chaosia. Just point me in the right direction."

* * *

As she watched the others laugh and drink, eating the massive meal she'd spent most of the day cooking as they traded stories and memories Chaosia had to admit that it wasn't so terribly awful to see her house burgeoning with people. Oh sure they were a loud boisterous bunch-and the men seemed intent to roughhouse more than she wanted with so many breakable things at hand- but she wasn't as put off as she had been days before.

She turned, giving Jill Valentine a tight but genuine smile as she nodded; halfhearted listening to the woman go on and on about the horrible camping experience as they drained her last bottle of good wine. She felt bad for the way that things had worked while they'd been further up the mountain but she would've changed places in a heartbeat.

Because she seriously doubted that Wesker would've pulled half of the shit with the pretty officer that he'd attempted with her.

"Oh my God! And then they couldn't agree on how to fish! Your brother tried to show them how to fish barehanded and that just ended up with a bunch of soaked idiots who kept getting everything else wet!"

Chaosia laughed, looking to Khail as he narrowed his eyes at Chris; the two glaring at one another over the cards they'd drug from somewhere. The men-or the Idiot brigade as Jill had dubbed them-were now scattered around her kitchen table, cards in hand as they all tossed the singles and fives into the pot. Bastian was looking over the others as he fingered his hand, the epitome of calm and collected while the others-Forest, Chris, Bastian and Wesker-all glared and complained.

Well the others complained while Wesker looked over his own cards in very apparent boredom.

She turned back to Jill, shaking her head as she laughed; trying not to cringe as she felt eyes on her. She cut her eyes over to the poker table, seeing that Wesker was seemingly focused on the table and the game but she knew better. The others were all so deeply involved that they weren't even aware she and Jill were there-or that Claire was soaking in the monster tub in the guest bathroom upstairs. And considering that the captain had donned his sunglasses as soon as the others had arrived she wasn't able to actually see where his gaze was focused. Nonetheless she sure it was him.

He'd been staring-no glaring at her since she'd attempted to make peace with Chris Redfield. Barely responding to anything she said or did with more than a few sharp, clipped words. Unless she happened to touch one of the other men and then it was 'Dear Heart' all over until their attention faded.

She shook her head to herself, reaching to refill her wine glass again when she happened to glance back up; freezing when she noticed Wesker's head turned slightly to her. She raised a brow, looking at him pointedly as his lips tugged into a tiny smirk. Right before he nodded ever so slightly and turned back to the game, brow raised as Chris and Khail laid down very similar hands at the same time.

She turned to Jill, raising her glass as the other woman shook her head; neither of them bothering to comment on the argument brewing mere feet away. But all of that came crashing to a halt when cards flew at them, Chris and Bastian's voices rising over Khail's as Forest tore from the room. The man was through her kitchen before any of the others could catch him, though her brothers and Chris were right behind him. And when she and Jill looked to one another she could barely contain her giggles at the other woman's words.

"JESUS! I swear you can't take them anywhere? What were they fighting over now?"

Wesker's voice made her turn, her reflection visible in the man's dark tinted glasses as he looked them over. She raised a brow, praying that she wasn't flushing as badly as she thought she was. But the second he sank into the sofa beside her, his arm causally landing one the back of the sofa directly over her shoulders she knew it was hopeless.

"Apparently Speyer decided to use a rigged deck. Redfield found one of the duplicate aces while Khail found the other. Their hands were nearly identical . . . though I agree their tearing out like wild dogs was unnecessary. At least they didn't break any dishes this time, right Dear heart?"

She blinked, shaking herself before she nodded; giving Wesker a pointed look. If Bastian walked in and saw them like this he would freak . . . and that wasn't even taking what Khail would do into consideration. She shifted, putting some distance between them as she took a large gulp from her glass. Jill however wasn't going to be any help. They'd all consumed enough alcohol to make them mellow-at the very least-and Jill seemed intent to disappear as fast as she could.

Hopefully not to puke all over her bathroom again. Note to self: next time do not allow alcohol if any member of STARS is going to present. Because none of them seemed to have enough sense to pace themselves. And she'd had to consume half an ocean just to stand them.

"God they're idiots. Well kiddies I'm going to go make sure Claire hasn't turned into a fish and then hit the hay. We've got a lot to pack tomorrow. And the idiots outside are going to help you clean up."

And with that she was up and moving towards the stairs, her fingertips grazing the wall as she made her way. Chaosia tried to fight a growl as she turned to ask Wesker what his issue was-only to nearly die when his hand clamped over her mouth hard enough to make her teeth ache. She glared at him as he tugged her up and to her feet; keeping a tight grip on her arm and face as he pushed her towards the kitchen.

They moved quickly, his fingers digging into her skin as they moved down the hallway towards the small staircase at the back of the house. It was the only way to get up to the master en-suite . . . and as they ascended the steps she was afraid. She wasn't clearheaded enough to deal with him-with his egotism or his mood swings. And she sure as hell wasn't one to be manhandled.

* * *

When they hit the landing Wesker let her go, drawing away from her like she was something tainted. She glared, pulling the long sleeves of her shirt down and over her arms as put distance between them. But he couldn't stop himself from stepping towards her. He had no idea what was going on here but goddamn it she was going to answer him.

She'd all but shunned him since the others had arrived, her attitude towards Redfield making him become angrier every time he'd see them. First it had been the quiet exchange at the man's Jeep, then her sheer audacity at insisting he use her private bathroom to bathe. And then when he'd come downstairs it had been small touches and glances . . . and dear God if he heard her say "Chris" one more time he was going to gut the man on the spot.

She'd barely interacted with him at all without prodding, the few times they'd been alone together it had taken her a considerable amount of time to warm to him-even before he'd negotiated the deal about the sample. Hell the first night on the porch he'd nearly had to pry ten words from her with a crowbar. But Redfield pops up looking haggard and irritated and he's greeted with a small and her instant favor-even after his drunken spectacle the group's first night.

He just didn't understand it! He was better than Redfield would ever have time to be! Better bred, better educated, better looking . . . well spoken and supremely intelligent; with interests that matched her own. Goals that could easily align with hers should he tweak them just enough. He would be in STARS until he was no longer needed-until Spencer reassigned him. He could very easily manipulate the people around them to benefit her should she need it.

So why was she behaving like this?

"What is your malfunction?"

He growled, glaring at her heatedly before moving towards the steps; trying to put as much distance between them. He had her upstairs and away from the others. And so long as she stayed up here-and as far from the other alcohol drenched idiots as he could get her he would be fine. Christ he'd known better than to let Shaw keep pushing drinks into his hands but he'd relented; angry enough at Chaosia's apparent dismissal not to care if he'd become just as inebriated as the others.

"Nothing, Dear Heart. Just trying to ensure you don't get my sharpshooter killed before we can get back to Raccoon."

He stilled before cursing. Shit why had he said that? Christ alcohol really did loosen tongues and brain cells.

Chaosia however didn't seem to catch his slip as she glared at him, her eyes narrowing into aqua slits of ice as she all but growled at him. She threw her hands in the air before pointing at the door, her exasperation more than evident.

"_**WHAT!**_ God you are absolutely the most confusing arrogant man on the fucking planet! **GET** _**OUT!**_"

He rolled his eyes, moving to do as she asked. But as he went to close the door he couldn't stop himself from speaking out, his lips moving on their own.

"Do cease the dramatics, Dear heart. You haven't met everyone on the planet so your little outburst is unfounded. Not to mention unnecessary. I'm leaving . . . but do _**not **_make the mistake of thinking we won't discuss this."

"Discuss what? How big of an ass you are?"

He snorted, giving her a deadpan look.

"No, dearest. How now that the others are back you seem intent to make a spectacle of yourself with any member of my team-save me."

She growled again, her voice dropping dangerously low as she cursed at him. And as soon as he shut the door he heard-felt-something collide with the wood and shatter. He looked back, amazed. She had actually tried to throw something at him. He shook his head, moving slowly down the steps as he heard noise start to drift up from the kitchen. The others were back inside and he knew that they would question his absence . . . even if they were drunk as fools.

He stepped out of the stairwell and into the hallway, moving into the kitchen just as Bastian was pushing yet another round of drinks into Redfield and Speyer's hands, Khail moving towards the lower level bedrooms with barely a glance over his shoulder. And Wesker made a decision. He knew it would bite him in the ass but damn it he was already pretty well sloshed-to have had an outburst like he had upstairs. Why not go ahead and kill the rest of his brain?

He moved to the counter, taking the drink from Bastian before he could drink from it; downing half in one go as the others looked at him in awe. Bastian however just laughed, clapping him on the shoulder before pouring another drink for himself. He lifted the glass, laughing as Redfield and Speyer followed suit.

"To the end of our relaxation, boys. May our return to work be easier than this weekend has been!"

Redfield snorted, lifting his glass higher as he nodded.

"A-fucking-men to that, Shaw. Now enough with the gay ass toasts. I just want to get drunk before I have to deal with anymore shit with our dear siblings tomorrow."

Speyer nodded, draining his drink as Bastian rolled his eyes; drinking as Wesker settled against the counter. And for the rest of the night-well into the morning hours he stood with the three men under his command and observed. Drinking just heavily as they did as he listened to them talk and joke. And somewhere between the wisecracks and slurred stories Albert Wesker found himself relaxing among other people for the first time in years. Earlier with the Shaws had been one thing-seeing as both Bastian and Chaosia were quiet and respectful enough to leave him alone to become acclimated to their presence. But this . . . this was something entirely new. It wasn't exactly horrid but he knew he needed to watch it.

And make sure that he limited his participation in group outings such as this. Uncontrolled exposure to the members of his team was proving to be a liability . . . one he couldn't afford if he wanted to keep his head.

* * *

_yeah . . . _


End file.
